305B 


-.    - 


Hearts 
Importunate 

By 

Evelyn  Dickinson 

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New  York 

Dodd,  Mead  6?  Company 
Mdcccc 


Copyright  1899 

by 
DODD,  MEAD  &  COMPANY 


Hearts  Importunate 


CHAPTER  I 

IT  was  a  spring  afternoon  in  New  South  "Wales  — 
a  so-called  "  spring  "  in  a  lean  year,  when  the  move- 
ment (if  movement  there  were  any)  of  the  vexed 
and  tormented  earth  was  backward  rather  than 
forward.  The  old  dry  grass  stood  sparse  and 
bleached  in  soil  that  was  scorched  by  the  sun  and 
the  frost  of  rainless  years,  and  showed  no  shoot  of 
vernal  green  ;  and  the  unchanging  hoary-hued  gums 
seemed  older  even  than  their  wont,  more  metallic, 
more  remotely  prehistoric.  The  wide  flats  of  Bur- 
rabindar  sheep-run  lay  iron-bound  in  the  grip  of 
drought. 

The  sun  fell  toward  the  land-line,  as  it  falls  night 
after  night  in  weeks  and  months  of  cloudless  Au- 
stralian weather,  through  depths  of  rose  and  prim- 
rose, and  the  hills  that  lay  eastward  —  rocky,  thinly- 
grown  with  eucalyptus  —  caught  the  splendid  glow 
of  the  west,  and  gave  it  back  with  lesser  warmth. 
A  man  came  riding  slowly  through  the  paddocks, 
facing  the  light.  He  leaned  down  from  his  saddle 
to  draw  back  the  bolt  of  a  gate,  which  refused  to 
act.  He  dismounted,  fastened  the  horse,  and  set  to 
work  in  rectification  with  a  pocket-knife.  This 
done,  he  walked  along  with  his  hand  on  the  bridle 
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, 

2  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

and  his  eye  searching  everywhere,  that  nothing 
might  escape  notice  which  a  squatter  needs  to  note. 
Ralph  Hazell  was  newly-born  as  squatter — three 
months  only  of  age — with  no  trained  sub-conscious- 
ness to  ease  his  undertaking.  He  was  a  tall  man, 
with  fine  shoulders  and  an  admirable  length  and 
proportion  of  limb ;  he  held  himself  well,  so  that  a 
certain  stoutness,  which  was  so  far  deplorable  rather 
as  a  prophecy  than  a  fact,  did  not  mar  the  dignity 
and  manliness  of  his  figure.  He  wore  a  short 
pointed  beard,  dark-brown  and  lustrous,  and  under 
his  strong  brows  his  pale-blue  eyes  were  clear  and 
penetrating. 

A  group  of  buildings  came  in  sight  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  distant  among  the  trees,  and  his  way  lay  to- 
ward them,  with  an  indifferent  look  upon  the  west- 
ern sky,  as  of  one  already  dull  to  its  evening  custom 
of  magnificence.  Suddenly,  from  the  bare  bough 
of  a  near  gum-tree,  a  pair  of  chubby  jackasses  burst 
into  immoderate,  wild  laughter,  and,  filling  the 
air  with  a  violent  duet  of  guffaw  and  chuckle,  they 
mocked  the  sun  in  its  going,  as  they  had  mocked  it 
in  its  coming.  " Ho-ho-ho-ho,  ha-ha-ha-ha!  ho-ho- 
ho-ho,  ha-ha-ha-ha!  br-r-r — r-r-r!"  shrieked  the 
birds,  repeating  several  times  their  hideous  utter- 
ance, with  each  other  and  against  each  other,  with 
odd  guttural  interspersions,  the  whole  effect  hoarse, 
hysterical,  harsh ;  an  effect  as  of  crude  mechanical 
cries,  as  of  the  clang  of  an  inferior  bell,  yet  dry  and 
short  as  breaking  wood,  which  leaves  no  wave 
within  the  ear ;  in  a  high  degree  derisive,  yet  en- 
tirely unmirthful.  The  squatter  stood  listening  at- 


HEAKTS IMPORTUNATE  3 

tentively.  It  was  his  habit  to  time  his  home-com- 
ing, that  if  possible  it  might  meet  their  song,  for 
his  heart  was  as  full  of  bitterness  as  the  Dead  Sea, 
and  his  brain  fermented  with  swarming  moments 
of  self-contempt  and  heavenward  rage.  So  that, 
sore  and  weak  to  boyishness,  his  soul  was  soothed 
by  the  concert  of  defiance.  The  discord  ended  in 
guttural  sobs,  and  the  birds,  the  incredible  authors 
of  it,  sat  at  peace  upon  their  bough.  In  the  silence 
which  followed,  the  long-drawn,  melancholy  "  A- 
a-ah ! "  of  a  carrion-crow  lamented  that  the  world 
should  be  of  such  a  sort.  Hazell,  with  his  arm 
through  the  reins,  moved  toward  the  homestead. 
Full  in  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun,  a  lady  sat  on 
horseback,  looking  at  him  ;  her  hat  hung  at  her 
side,  her  head  was  crowned  with  a  glory  of  rippling 
and  coiling  gold,  on  which  the  ruddy  light  fell,  red- 
dening, burnishing,  till  it  glowed  as  though  the 
very  wine  of  life  ran  through  it.  Hazell  caught  his 
breath  sharply ;  after  the  desolation  of  sound,  such 
royal  abundance  of  colour  was  like  a  blow  upon  his 
nerves,  and,  having  struck,  it  held  him  like  a  spell. 
So  for  a  moment  he  was  transfixed,  staring,  till  the 
habit  of  civility  asserted  itself,  and  he  remembered 
that  he  was  on  his  own  ground,  where  she,  however 
unapproachably  brilliant,  was  guest.  In  response 
to  his  hurried  and  clumsy,  salute,  she  made  inquiry, 
the  explanation  brief,  neat,  polite,  in  the  way  of 
good  English  speech : 

"  Is  there  any  one  in  the  house,  do  you  know,  from 
whom  I  could  beg  a  cup  of  tea  ?  I  have  had  a  long 
ride — longer  than  I  intended." 


4  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

Her  voice  restored  his  self-command. 

"  I  hope,"  he  answered,  "  that  some  one  awaits  my 
own  needs.  But  however  that  may  be,  you  are 
welcome  to  whatever  can  be  found  there." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  the  new  master  of  Burra- 
bindar." 

"  I  believe  I  am.     But  why  afraid  ?  " 

"Because  I  am  a  trespasser — if  there  is  such  a 
thing  as  trespass  in  the  Bush." 

"As  the  youngest  and  the  least  of  Bushmen,  I 
assure  you  there  is  no  such  thing.  Besides — " 
He  hesitated.  He  wished  to  give  effect  to  his 
thought  that  the  coldest  of  front-doors — an  Edin- 
burgh front-door — would  open  cordially  to  so  glad 
a  presence;  but  the  restraint  of  her  fine  features 
guarded  their  beauty  from  the  vulgar  assault  of 
compliment.  "  Please  come  in,"  he  concluded. 

The  wide  wooden  verandah  of  the  house  was 
empty  of  all  but  a  hammock  and  a  canvas  water- 
bag  ;  not  even  a  chair  offered  invitation.  The 
centre  door  stood  open,  but  black — the  windows 
were  dull  with  blinds.  The  deadness  of  it  gave 
the  visitor  pause,  for  there  is  question  of  man  and 
woman  even  when  hospitality  admits  no  doubt. 

"  Really,  I  don't  know,"  she  said.  "  Why  should 
I  trouble  you  ?  " 

He  read  her  mind,  and  answered  it. 

"  My  housekeeper  loves  a  new  face,"  he  urged. 

"  A  drink  from  the  creek  would  do  for  me  very 
nearly  as  well,"  she  replied.  But  she  yielded,  and 
rode  on,  explainiEg :  "  I  knew  the  former  people  of 
this  station,  and  have  often  been  here  before.  I  was 


HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE  5 

aware  that  they  were  to  leave  it,  of  course,  but  I  did 
not  realise,  until  I  saw  you,  that  you  were  already 
in  their  place." 

"  Only  a  fortnight,"  he  said. 

It  was  easy  for  him  to  fall  a  little  behind,  and 
his  bewilderment  at  her  appearing  sank  into  won- 
der, and  thence  to  pleasure  that  her  face  and  form 
were  not  unworthy  the  magical  crown  of  hair. 
The  ivory  paleness  of  her  cheek  took  its  tone  har- 
moniously from  the  gold  which  set  it,  the  vigour  of 
her  splendid  growth  showed  in  her  grip  upon  the 
saddle,  and  its  suppleness  in  the  play  of  her  hand 
upon  the  reins.  Watching  her  in  three-quarter 
profile,  he  called  her,  in  his  mind,  superb,  a  demi- 
goddess,  and  in  his  memory  of  the  moment,  while 
life  retained  it,  he  saw  her  always  as  a  radiant  con- 
trast in  the  grey-green  Bush,  somewhat  as  he  had 
seen  the  great  white  orb  of  Venus  when  she  hung 
low  in  the  grey-blue  tropical  night. 

"  You  are  no  stranger  to  these  parts,  I  see,"  he 
said,  smiling.  "  You  make  for  the  back  entrance 
as  straight  as  a  swagsman." 

She  assented  inaudibly,  ignoring  his  question. 

There  were  extensive  out-buildings,  and  a  China- 
man was  at  work  in  an  acre  of  vegetable  garden. 
The  enclosing  fires  of  the  outside  oven  smoked 
thinly,  and  one  could  see  the  beams  of  an  open 
shed,  thick  with  roosting  fowls.  No  human  being, 
except  the  yellow  gardener,  was  in  sight.  Hazell 
shouted  several  names,  but  no  one  answered,  and 
he  turned  to  his  companion,  laughing  through  an- 
noyance. 


6  HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE 

"  Would  you  believe,"  he  asked  her,  "  that  I  have 
a  housekeeper,  an  underling  girl,  and  a  stableman, 
to  my  sole  service,  and  that  this  is  nearly  my  dinner 
hour  ?  I  am  much  minded  to  cashier  the  lot  of 
them." 

"  Don't,  if  I  may  advise.  Domestic  help  cometh 
from  afar  in  the  Bush.  Some  diverting  trifle  has 
drawn  them  off,  either  up  the  creek  or  down  the 
creek — you  know  how  we  measure  direction.  They 
will  reappear  in  moderately  good  time,  I  don't  say 
properly  repentant,  but  serviceable  once  more." 

"  Meanwhile,  will  you  not  get  down  ?  " 

He  laid  a  detaining  hand  on  the  bridle  of  her 
mare.  His  manner  was  alert,  easy — the  entirely 
impersonal  manner  of  the  modern  Englishman  of 
the  world,  who,  as  it  were,  puts  at  the  command  of 
the  person  he  wishes  to  oblige,  himself,  a  well-oiled 
and  ingenious  machine,  which  asks  no  questions, 
and  takes  no  notice,  is  merely  clever  and  obedient. 
But  Hazell's  was  a  personality  full  of  force,  which 
convention  might  train  and  veil  without  in  any  way 
abating.  His  companion  felt  the  stir,  the  insistence 
of  his  magnetism,  and  whether  or  not  it  was  pur- 
posely directed  toward  herself,  she  resisted  it. 

"I  would  rather  stay  here.  You  will  have  to 
grope  your  way  to  the  water-bottle.  I  refuse  to 
break  my  neck  in  unknown  territory." 

"You  won't  vanish  while  I  am  away  on  your 
service  ?  " 

"  No.     I  am  too  thirsty." 

He  disappeared  into  the  black  doorway,  leaving 
his  horse  to  stand.  The  short,  sub-tropical  twilight 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  7 

was  on  the  land,  and  the  look  of  the  house,  dark 
with  its  shading  verandahs,  was  that  of  unrelieved 
night.  A  bull-frog  croaked  raucously  in  the  still 
air.  The  eastern  sky  showed  the  flush  of  the  rising 
moon.  Footsteps  sounded  near,  and  a  lean,  mean- 
looking  little  man,  soiled  from  Bush-tramping, 
carrying  billy  and  swag,  came  in  the  guidance  of 
the  Chinese  gardener,  and  they  placed  themselves 
decorously  a  few  yards  away,  the  celestial  looking 
at  her  with  smiles.  She  greeted  him  by  name- 
Soy  Ching — and  he  asked,  on  behalf  of  his  compan- 
ion, if  the  master  were  in. 

As  a  goddess  might  present  herself  to  one  of  in- 
ferior race,  she  replied  friendly,  adding  that  it  must 
be  satisfactory  nowadays  to  be  free  from  children 
tramping  over  the  beds. 

"Yelly  ni',  chillen,"  he  answered  equably. 

"  And  velly  ni',  no  chillen  ?  " 

"  Allee  same,  velly  ni',  Missie  Fletchee." 

"Everything  all  the  same  to  you,  Soy  Ching, 
wise  man  that  you  are." 

The  dusty  tramp,  who  from  the  moment  of  see- 
ing the  rider  had  stared  intently,  as  though  fasci- 
nated, started  forward  and  peered  yet  more  keenly 
on  hearing  her  name  as  rendered  in  pigeon,  and 
she  made  a  shield  for  herself  against  the  annoyance 
by  putting  on  the  sailor-hat  which  hung  from  her 
arm. 

The  master  appeared  at  the  house-door,  and 
alleged  his  doings  in  a  cheerful  voice. 

"  There  is  an  excellent  fire  in  my  sitting-room," 
he  said,  "  and  the  kettle  is  alive  with  bubbles,  and 


8  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

ray  tea,  I  assure  you,  is  something  specially  good." 
Then,  perceiving  the  men,  his  tones  changed  to  that 
of  military  question.  "What  do  you  want,  Soy 
Ching  ?  Is  this  a  mate  of  yours  ?  " 

"  He  say  he  water  mollow  morning ;  tucker  to- 
nigh',"  replied  the  Chinaman  sweetly. 

"  How  do  I  know  what  he  will  do  to-morrow  ?  I 
don't  want  sundowners  on  my  place." 

The  tramp  came  forward  with  plausible  and 
fluent  speech. 

"  Sundowner  ?  'Ow,  in  Gawd's  name,  sir,  's  a 
man  to  foller  any  other  trade  in  such  a  season  has 
this?  Everything's  that  burnt  up,  there's  no 
chance.  They  turned  me  orf  my  last  job,  down  the 
Lachlan,  becos  there  was  nothing  left  to  do  on  the 
river  but  wait  for  death  an'  blue  ruin." 

Hazell  eyed  the  speaker's  ferret  features  without 
sympathy. 

"  Thanks,  I  need  no  story,"  he  said,  and  turned 
impatiently  to  Soy  Ching.  "If  you  really  want 
help,  you  must  see  to  him.  Tell  Mrs.  Brock,  when 
she  comes  back,  that  he  is  to  have  some  tucker, 
and  get  his  tucker's  worth  of  watering  out  of  him 
in  the  morning.  I  think  " — the  squatter  reverted 
to  his  guest  in  his  former  voice — "  that  kettle  must 
be  boiling  over,  and  you  know  you  must  really 
wait  for  the  moon  now." 

"  I  asked  only  for  a  drink  of  water.  "Well,  I 
yield,"  she  said  reluctantly  ;  and  evading  his  hand, 
she  dropped  lightly  from  the  saddle. 

Hazell  signed  to  the  Chinaman  to  look  to  the 
horses,  while  the  tramp  stood  still  staring  at  the 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  9 

lady,  and  even  rounded  quickly  to  follow  her  with 
his  eyes  as  she  went  before  the  master  into  the  house. 
She  walked,  thought  her  host,  with  the  true  goddess 
step,  and  he  noted  further  that,  after  what  had  prob- 
ably been  a  long  time  in  the  saddle,  there  was  no 
stiffness  in  her  movements.  Having  at  length  ac- 
cepted his  invitation,  moreover,  there  was  no  affec- 
tation of  hesitation,  for  she  went  without  direction 
into  the  large  room  on  the  right  of  the  central  pas- 
sage. He  had  lighted  a  lamp,  and  fanned  the  log- 
fire  to  brightness  with  the  big  bellows  which  lay  on 
the  hearth ;  a  small  square  table  was  set  for  a  sol- 
itary diner,  and  at  one  corner,  for  the  visitor's  use, 
he  had  put  a  great  cup  and  saucer.  He  pushed  for- 
ward a  spacious  armchair  in  shabby  leather,  from 
whence  she  watched  him  and  his  surroundings  with 
the  fresh,  unfatigued  perception  of  one  who  lives 
much  among  familiar  things.  Evidently  the  room 
was  the  general  living- place  of  a  lonely  man,  who 
used  it  for  most  purposes.  It  was  orderly,  but  all 
things  were  ugly,  and  she  recognised  various  arti- 
cles of  furniture,  old  and  worn,  as  having  belonged 
to  the  former  family.  A  second  table,  long  and 
solid,  stood  between  the  windows  piled  with  news- 
papers, mainly  unopened,  the  postal  harvest  of 
months.  An  old-fashioned  writing- bureau  occupied 
a  recess  on  one  side  of  the  chimney.  The  glass  of 
its  upper  cupboard  was  broken,  and  the  books  be- 
hind were  crowded  in  disarray  upon  the  shelves. 
The  mantelpiece  was  packed  with  cigar-boxes,  and 
littered  with  pipes.  A  couple  of  swords  in  scab- 
bards, crossed  with  a  couple  of  rifles,  were  the  only 


10  HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE 

ornament  of  the  walls,  and  gun-cases,  fishing-rods, 
riding-whips — the  usual  accessories  of  a  sportsman 
— stood  in  the  angles,  and  lay  about  the  floor.  A 
worn  square  of  carpet,  and  a  few  cane-seated  chairs, 
completed  the  inventory. 

Hazell  prepared  tea  and  bread-and-butter  for  his 
visitor,  quick  and  careful,  without  speaking.  Evi- 
dently he  was  of  those  who  give  their  whole  atten- 
tion to  the  thing  in  hand.  His  visitor  noted  the 
determination  of  his  expression,  the  thinness  of  his 
hair  about  the  brows  and  crown,  his  heavy  wedding- 
ring.  The  service  complete,  he  seated  himself  op- 
posite. 

"What  am  I  drinking?  Young  Hyson?  Im- 
perial tips  ?  Something  surely  very  costly  ?  "  she 
asked,  as  she  sipped  slowly. 

"  Something  I  import  myself — something  whose 
name  and  source  I  give  to  no  one.  I  am  consist- 
ently selfish ;  if  I  care  for  anything,  I  keep  it  to 
myself.  Are  you  sure  this  is  all  I  can  do  for 
you?" 

"  More  than  enough.  I  asked  for  water,  and  you 
give  me  tea  and  bread-and-butter  in  a  dish  that  is 
quite  sufficiently  lordly." 

"  Diana  softens,"  thought  Hazell,  with  some  relief 
of  mind.  "Is  she  perhaps  really  rather  Helen?" 
He  ventured  a  question :  "  Have  you  far  to  go  ?  " 

"  Fourteen  miles  or  so." 

"Alone?" 

"  I  hope  so.     Oh,  I  know  the  road  !  " 

"  And  I  am  to  eat  my  dinner  comfortably,  and 
think  of  you  cantering  lonely  through  the  Bush  ?  " 


HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE  11 

"There  is  no  need  for  you  to  think  of  me  at 
all." 

Her  voice  was  expressive  as  well  as  clear.  Hazell 
bowed  stiffly,  for  it  was  suddenly  colder ;  and,  as 
though  she  recognised  her  own  ungraciousness,  she 
added : 

"  I  live  at  Wamagatta,  Mr.  Hazell.  My  name  is 
Fletcher.  We  shall  probably  meet  some  day,  when 
you  come  to  call  on  Mrs.  Bolitho." 

He  bowed  again. 

"  I  know  the  name  of  Bolitho  of  Wamagatta,"  he 
answered ;  "  but  I  do  not  intend  to  pay  visits  of 
ceremony,  and  there  is  certainly  little  to  attract  vis- 
itors of  ceremony  to  these  quarters  of  mine." 

He  put  out  a  hand  to  emphasise  the  ugliness  of 
his  surroundings ;  the  firelight  shone  on  his  wed- 
ding-ring. 

"  You  might,  I  allow,  be  of  a  less  sternly  utili- 
tarian appearance ;  but  your  wife,  perhaps " 

"  My  wife  !  I  have  no  wife !  "  he  interrupted  her, 
so  loud,  so  violent,  that  she  looked  at  him  in  amaze- 
ment, and  silence  fell  upon  them. 

The  harshness  and  passion  of  his  face  froze  apol- 
ogy at  its  conception,  and  it  is  surely  barbaric  to 
roar  one's  resentment  for  an  unwitting  touch  upon 
however  sore  a  wound. 

She  moved  as  if  to  leave  the  chair ;  her  strange 
host  recovered  himself  with  a  pang  of  shame,  and 
his  voice  was  warmly  cordial  as  he  interposed : 

"  Don't  stir  yet,  I  beg  of  you.  The  moon  is  still 
worthless,  and  in  this  half-and-half  sort  of  light 
riding  is  not  very  safe." 


12  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

"  I  am  used  to  the  Bush  in  all  lights,  and  at  all 
seasons." 

"  I  cannot  say  as  much ;  but  in  a  year  or  two,  if  I 
stick  to  the  saddle  as  I  have  been  doing  lately— 
Do  you  like  the  Bush,  Miss  Fletcher  ?  " 

"  For  many  reasons,  I  love  it." 

"  The  pungent,  tonic  smell  of  it  ?  "  he  suggested. 

"  Yes,  and  its  great  extent,  and  its  glorious  lone- 
liness— no  towns,  no  human  beings;  its  exquisite 
cleanliness.  I  think  it  must  be  the  cleanest  place  in 
the  world — sun-dried,  wind-swept." 

There  was  enthusiasm  in  her  words.  He  saw  it, 
wondering ;  but  for  the  second  time  he  felt  it  im- 
possible to  offer  her  flattering  speech  on  his  own 
ground,  in  his  own  house,  and  in  a  matter-of-fact 
way  he  commented : 

"  I  should  have  expected  towns  and  human  beings 
to  possess  charm  for  you." 

"  I  hate  them.  It  is  rarely — as,  for  instance,  when 
I  ride  too  far,  and  am  in  need  of  refreshment — that 
I  can  see  any  good  in  strangers." 

"  And  the  world — so  many  millions,  you  know — 
must  be  chiefly  strangers,  however  large  your  circle." 

"  Mine  is  particularly  small ;  but  has  one  not  a 
right  to  one's  own  individuality  ?  I  am  at  least  con- 
sistent ;  being  without  desire  for  what  is  called  or- 
dinary society,  I  live  in  the  Australian  Bush." 

"  You  are  a  strong  individualist  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  am." 

"  Then,  pardon  me  if  I  make  a  request  of  you. 
Take  off  your  hat  again  just  for  a  moment." 

"Why,  Mr.  Hazell?" 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  13 

"  Don't  be  annoyed  with  me ;  I  mean  no  offence 
— I  ask  it  with  all  respect.  Please  take  off  your 
hat." 

"But — "  Miss  Fletcher  hesitated;  his  tones, 
his  attitude,  were  indeed  entirely  respectful.  "I 
fail  to  see  why  I  should  do  so,"  she  concluded. 

"  Because,  if  you  like,  I  want  payment  for  my 
tea.  We  are  not  friends ;  you  dislike  strangers — I 
avoid  them.  Consider  this  house  an  inn ;  I  want 
payment  for  my  tea — payment  in  gold." 

"  It  is  much  too  dear.     Silver  would  be  ample." 

"You  cannot  judge;  that  is  very  special  tea. 
The  Tsar  himself  would  be  glad  to  drink  it ;  it  is 
worth  guineas  by  the  pound." 

"  But  my  consumption  was  of  such  a  tiny  fraction 
of  a  pound." 

She  was  laughing ;  he  waved  his  own  arguments 
aside. 

"  I  urge  no  more ;  you  are  too  keen  for  me.  I 
throw  myself  on  your  charity.  The  position,  I 
own,  is  preposterous;  but  of  whom  may  one  ask 
the  preposterous,  if  not  of  an  individualist?  To 
give  a  stranger  pleasure,  please  take  off  your  hat." 

His  personality  was  strong  upon  her  as  he  stood 
before  her,  and,  though  absurd,  his  request  was 
harmless,  and  his  manner  made  it  decently  colour- 
less. She  complied,  rising  to  her  feet  as  she  did  so, 
and  turning  toward  the  door  as  if  to  show  that  the 
inspection  must  be  brief.  Firelight  and  lamplight 
fell  on  the  magnificent  masses  of  her  hair,  and  the 
rich  pagan  glow  of  it  filled  his  brain  and  stirred  his 
pulses  as  wine  would  do.  He  drew  a  deep  breath, 


14  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

as  though  he  inhaled  its  brilliance,  then  followed 
her  quickly. 

"  You  are  right ;  I  am  overpaid,"  he  said.  "  I 
offer  you  something  by  way  of  change — a  pair  of 
Albanian  pig-tusks,  an  ounce  of  the  precious  tea  ? 
There  is  so  little  of  mine  that  has  any  exchange 
value." 

Soy  Ching  waited  in  the  moonlight  attendant  on 
the  drooping  horses.  The  air  was  keen  and  cold, 
and  there  was  a  sparkle  on  grass  and  trees. 

"Frost  again,"  said  the  squatter.  "How  long 
may  one  expect  it  in  these  parts  ?  " 

"  You  may  expect  anything  you  like.  There  are 
no  clear  limits  to  the  seasons  in  this  country.  It 
may  rain  every  day  for  three  months,  or  the  heav- 
ens may  be  as  brass  for  three  years.  Do  you  pray 
for  rain  in  your  religion,  Soy  Ching  ?  If  so,  you 
should  pray  now ;  you  will  have  no  garden  left  by 
the  summer." 

The  man  smiled  as  usual.  Miss  Fletcher  took 
the  mare  from  him,  and  led  her  aside  to  a  small 
heap  of  wood ;  the  docile  creature  stood  while  her 
mistress,  with  the  skill  of  much  practice,  sprang 
into  the  saddle  and  settled  herself  there,  closely  as 
a  hand  to  its  glove.  Hazell  looked  on,  admiring. 

"  You  need  no  help  of  mortal,  I  see,"  he  said ; 
"  but,  still,  may  I  not  at  least  come  with  you  to  the 
end  of  the  run  ?  " 

"  Four  miles,  I  think  ?  Certainly  not.  Good-bye, 
and  many  thanks." 

As  she  rounded  toward  the  moonlight  in  the 
creek,  she  caught  sight  of  the  meagre  figure  of  the 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  15 

sundowner,  who  lolled  against  the  shed  where  the 
fowls  roosted,  and  watched  her.  "Was  there  a  grin 
about  his  face  ?  It  was  a  wretched  little  face,  with 
small  eyes,  near-set  to  a  long  narrow  nose — a  de- 
testable, peering,  inquisitive  face.  She  touched  the 
mare  with  her  heel,  and  started  her  on  a  smart  trot 
across  the  bed  of  the  low  stream,  among  the  gleam- 
ing trunks  of  the  gum-trees.  Roused  by  the  ring 
of  hoofs  on  a  stony  spot,  a  jackass  sleeping  on  a 
bough  was  stirred  to  laughter,  and  as  Miss  Fletcher 
sped  away,  and  Hazell  stood  observing  her,  the 
lonely  grey-green  Bush  was  waked  by  the  familiar 
mockery:  " Ho-ho-ho-ho,  ha-ha-ha-ha!  ho-ho-ho-ho, 
ha-ha-hca-ha !  br-r-r — r-r-r ! " 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  Beulah  district — lying  for  many  miles  round 
the  post-town  from  which  it  took  name — was  genu- 
inely interested  and  concerned  to  hear  of  the  death 
of  Emily  Fagan  (by  reason  of  which  the  master  of 
Burrabindar  had  been  unattended  and  waiting  for 
his  dinner).  The  girl's  story  had  been  highly  ro- 
mantic, and  her  end  was  such  as  to  command  a 
common  regret.  She  was  the  only  child  of  Peter 
Proudfoot,  who  kept  the  largest  general  store  in 
Beulah,  and  had  grown  wealthy  upon  it.  He  was 
by  birth  of  a  singularly  concentrated  temperament, 
which  had  been  heightened  by  the  circumstances  of 
his  breeding,  for  he  had  been  born  a  native  of  the 
most  exclusive  county  in  Scotland,  and  trained  in 
the  extreme  rigidity  of  the  Free  Church.  Compul- 
sion of  the  usual  kind — to  make  a  living — had  led 
to  his  establishment  in  Australia,  where  he  married, 
unequally,  a  lively  girl  of  the  soil ;  but  he  con- 
tinued primarily  a  citizen  of  Killinot  and  a  member 
of  the  Disruption.  His  wife  died  young.  The  un- 
married women  of  Beulah  and  the  district  had  been 
deeply  moved  by  the  forlorn  state  of  baby  Emily. 
But  Peter  Proudfoot's  widowhood  had  been  unas- 
sailable, and  truly  the  child  lacked  little,  for  his 
fatherhood  was  as  concentrated  as  the  rest  of  him. 
As  she  grew,  the  neighbourhood  delighted  to  see  her 
winsome  smile  and  her  yellow  ringlets,  alive  and 

16 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  17 

running  over  with  life,  among  the  unromantic  de- 
tail of  the  store ;  and  when  it  was  discerned  later 
that  she  possessed  a  singing- voice  of  notable  strength 
and  sweetness,  all  those  whose  position  placed  them 
above  envy  were  anxious  that  this  should  be  thor- 
oughly cultivated,  for  the  glory  of  Australia  and 
the  pleasure  of  the  world.  Mrs.  Bolitho  of  "Wama. 
gatta  in  particular  made  a  personal  request  and 
proposal  to  Peter  Proudfoot ;  if  he  would  suffer  the 
child  to  begin  her  musical  training  in  Sydney,  she 
herself  would  defray  the  cost  of  a  finishing  trip  to 
Europe.  But  song,  and  the  platform,  and  the  devil- 
tempted  career  of  the  artist,  were  utterly  repugnant 
to  him,  even  had  they  not  necessitated  the  loss  of 
his  dear  one's  society.  His  consent  was  not  to  be 
had,  and  except  at  a  rare  local  concert,  in  some 
ballad  of  the  moment,  or  at  Sunday- worship,  in  the 
poor  melody  of  the  metrical  psalms,  the  world  was 
none  the  happier  for  her  rich  gift.  It  was  well 
known  how  one  bad  night,  driving  through  the 
street,  Miss  Fletcher  had  stopped  her  horses  a  long 
time  to  hear  Emily  singing  Scotch  songs  to  her  fa- 
ther in  the  verandah,  how,  at  length,  she  had  left  the 
carriage  and  gone  impetuously  to  tell  him  that  such 
a  voice  was  no  private  property,  either  of  his  or 
hers  ;  that  to  withhold  it  from  the  ears  and  hearts 
of  their  fellow-creatures  was  no  less  than  an  irrepa- 
rable wrong.  Proudfoot  had  replied  firmly  in  the 
manner  of  his  particular  biblical  eclecticism,  and 
Miss  Fletcher  had  lost  her  temper.  Nothing  on 
earth  was  so  selfish,  so  utterly  and  irresponsibly 
selfish,  she  told  him,  as  a  selfish  father ;  no  sins  so 


18  HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE 

certainly  went  home  to  roost  as  those  of  parents  to 
their  children.  Then  she  drove  off  at  a  great  pace, 
and  the  dark  verandah  had  given  no  sign  for  the 
edification  of  the  curious  loafers  in  the  dark  street. 

The  following  summer  Proudfoot  sat  alone  in  his 
darkness,  and  Emily,  immeasurably  distant  by 
twenty  miles,  sang  to  her  husband  at  the  door  of 
their  two-roomed  hut.  She  had,  on  the  whole,  been 
indifferent  about  her  proposed  musical  training ;  the 
applause  of  crowded  opera-houses  and  diamond  pres- 
entations from  Emperors  were  attractive  but  re- 
mote, and  to  be  won  in  any  case  by  long  and  weari- 
some study.  Now,  here  in  Beulah  there  was  the 
flowing  interest  of  the  shop,  and  the  admiration  of 
the  local  youth,  most  admiring  of  whom  was  Lau- 
rence Fagan,  and  most  dangerous ;  for  he  consum- 
mated his  Irish  charm  of  face,  figure,  and  tongue  by 
his  unrelieved  ineligibility  as  a  poor  papistical  bound- 
ary-rider on  the  station  of  Mr.  Snowe  of  Burrabin- 
dar,  and  in  his  connection  Emily  was  not  indifferent. 

Again  Peter  Proudfoot  said  "  No,"  and  seemed  to 
consider  the  matter  closed ;  but  pairing  takes  pre- 
cedence of  parentage,  and  Emily,  with  her  lover's 
help,  arranged  for  herself  a  convenient  absence  in 
the  direction  of  Sydney,  and  returned  from  it,  ready 
to  be  forgiven,  in  the  name  of  Fagan.  The  Beulah 
district,  which  loved  the  girl,  and,  like  all  districts, 
loved  romance,  looked  for  the  reconciliation  which 
would  surely  come — at  least,  with  the  end  of  the 
year ;  but  there  was  a  sudden  onset  of  illness,  vio- 
lent and  short.  No  nurse  or  medical  aid  was  nearer 
than  sixteen  miles ;  convulsion  had  followed  con- 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  19 

vulsion  unchecked,  and  the  poor  premature  baby 
had  given  no  cry,  and  the  racked  and  tormented 
mother  found  rest  only  in  death.  Ralph  Hazell  had 
seen  the  girl  more  than  once  as  he  rode  his  rounds, 
and  he  regretted  the  cruel  quenching  of  so  blithe  a 
spark  of  life;  with  civil  intention,  therefore,  he 
rode  to  the  burial,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  second 
day  following  Miss  Fletcher's  visit. 

On  the  stony  hillside,  drenched  with  unclouded 
sunlight,  now,  even  in  the  springtime,  almost  bare 
of  grass,  and  strewn  with  the  dry,  dead  litter  of 
boughs,  leaves,  tree-trunks,  among  which  sparsely 
grew  the  gaunt  colourless  gums,  stood  about  fifty 
people,  unheroic  figures,  in  the  awkward  attitudes 
of  Britons  on  occasions  of  emotion,  in  the  ugly 
clothing  of  our  custom,  ^ever,  probably,  from  the 
beginning  of  things,  had  so  large  a  crowd  of  human 
beings  assembled  there,  unless  it  had  been  of  black- 
fellows  in  corroboree,  who,  indeed,  except  that  from 
habit  the  eye  expects  an  utter  solitude  in  the  Bush, 
would  have  been  harmonious  with  its  wildness.  All 
round,  at  varying  distances,  horses  and  vehicles 
stood  awaiting  their  owners,  storekeepers'  wives 
from  Beulah,  in  garb  of  countrified  mourning.  The 
parched  selectors  with  their  wives  and  families  ar- 
rived by  the  cartful  from  remote  places,  wearing 
their  everyday  garments,  mostly  of  print,  faded  by 
washing  from  the  bright  colours  preferred  in  bright 
lands.  A  score  of  unconnected  men,  boundary- 
riders,  stockmen,  station  hands,  a  miner  or  two,  in 
leather  gaiters  and  shabby  tweed  jackets,  lounged 
about,  wearing  their  soft  hats,  keeping  an  ashamed 


20  HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE 

eye  on  the  centre  of  the  group,  the  rough-cut  grave. 
Across  this,  on  a  hurdle,  lay  a  pine  coffin,  smothered 
in  splendid  violets  and  boughs  of  golden  wattle. 
Here,  in  an  accent  of  Ulster,  not  without  emotion, 
the  Presbyterian  minister  spoke  and  prayed  ear- 
nestly, and  Larry  Fagan,  thrown  at  full  length  upon 
the  stony  soil,  wept  and  sobbed  without  control. 
Gradually  the  whole  company  present  seemed  ab- 
sorbed in  watching  him,  drawn  from  their  own 
sensibility  to  the  easier  and  less  painful  observation 
of  his,  so  that  sorrow  was  displaced  by  sympathy. 
Hazell  noticed  this,  in  his  shrewd  way,  and  ad- 
dressed the  dead  girl  mentally  :  "  Positively  your 
last  appearance  on  the  public  stage,  Emily.  The 
concern  of  the  living  is  with  the  living — pass  on  ! " 
He  smiled  bitterly  as  he  thought  thus,  and  doing 
so,  as  though  a  wave  of  feeling  had  welled  against 
his  nerves  and  compelled  him  to  recognise  it  and 
follow  the  line  of  it,  he  looked  across  the  grass  and 
saw  Miss  Fletcher.  She  was  dressed  for  riding,  in 
a  black  habit ;  her  hair  gleamed  through  the  dark- 
ness of  the  veil  which  hid  her  head  and  face.  Her 
eyes  were  directly  upon  his,  and  he  knew  that  she 
had  seen  his  smile  and  resented  it.  A  little  elderly 
lady  leant  upon  her  arm.  The  service  ended,  and 
the  audience  scattered  slowly,  with  lingering, 
doubtful  glances  at  the  grave  and  the  widower, 
whom,  it  seemed,  they  left  to  the  minister,  as  best 
fitted  to  deal  with  the  unconventional.  A  station- 
hand,  acting  as  sexton,  came  for\Arard  with  his 
spade,  stared  at  the  flowers,  and  referred  his  per- 
plexity also  to  the  minister. 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  21 

"  Be  I  to  earth  in  these  pretty  blooms,  sir  ?  I 
call  to  mind  a  buryin'  I  'tended  River  End  way : 
the  posies  was  laid  atop,  a  finishin'  to  the  mound, 
like,  and  it  took  my  fancy  greatly." 

The  voice  in  which  he  spoke  was  peculiarly  shrill 
and  grating,  being  the  intended  modification  of  its 
ordinary  tone  to  the  compliment  of  a  whisper.  It 
reached  Larry's  ears  with  irritating  effect,  and  rais- 
ing his  spoiled,  swollen  face,  by  one  swift  move- 
ment he  jerked  himself,  turning  on  his  arm,  into  the 
grave,  and  crying  out,  "  Do  as  ye  plase — the  way  ye 
earth  me  in  wid  her  ! "  he  fell  on  the  cofim  among 
the  flowers,  and  lay  clutching  the  irresponsive 
wooden  walls.  The  air  was  pierced  with  his  reso- 
nant woeful  keen. 

The  sexton  scratched  his  head ;  the  minister 
pleaded  soothingly  :  "  Fagan,  my  dear  brother,  it 
is  the  Lord's  will ;  submit  yourself  to  Him.  Him- 
self hath  done  it." 

The  mourners,  arrested  on  their  way,  and  in  their 
arranging  of  reins  and  traces,  gazed  back  with  a 
thrill  of  interest.  Hazell,  his  eyebrows  raised, 
tapped  his  boot  with  his  whip.  Miss  Fletcher  shiv- 
ered and  moved  as  if  to  hurry  to  where  a  groom  in 
plain  clothes  held  her  horse.  The  elderly  lady  de- 
tained her. 

"  I  am  the  oldest  person  here,  let  me  speak  to 
him,"  she  exclaimed ;  and  leaning  on  her  compan- 
ion's arm,  she  limped  slowly  to  seat  herself  on  the 
upturned  gravel,  just  above  the  distracted  figure. 
"  Leave  me  for  a  moment,  my  dear." 

Seizing  the  instant,  Hazell  stepped  quickly  to 


22  HEAKTS  DIPOKTUNATE 

meet  Miss  Fletcher  as  she  drew  away.  He  felt  that 
she  wished  to  avoid  him,  but  as  though  his  feet  of 
their  own  accord  took  him  to  her,  his  mind  being 
unwilling,  he  planted  himself  before  her,  raised  his 
hat,  and  found  nothing  to  say,  except,  after  hesita- 
tion, and  vaguely : 

"  This  is  a  sad  scene." 

"  It  seemed  to  me  that  you  were  so  fortunate  as 
to  find  amusement  in  it,"  she  answered  coldly. 

"  I  feared  you  would  see  and  misunderstand,"  he 
replied  eagerly,  as  though  it  were  now  his  tongue 
which  ran  away  with  him.  "  I  confess  I  smiled, 
but  it  was  at  my  thoughts.  I  often  laugh  to  my- 
self at  the  irony  of  life.  It  seems  the  only  thing  to 
do." 

"  Men  may  laugh,  but  women  must  weep,"  was 
the  dry  response. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon ;  that  is  by  no  means  invari- 
able. There  are  many  women  who  laugh  while 
men — well,  while  men  go  heart-broken — I  know  it." 

Her  temper  took  fire  at  the  sudden  flicker  of  his, 
and  she  answered  warmly  :  "  That  is  not  my  expe- 
rience. To  go  no  further,  think  of  the  story  before 
us  to-day." 

"  I  hear  a  man  weeping,  at  all  events." 

"  Yes,  and  you  will  hear  his  wedding-bells  a  few 
months  hence.  I  know  his  kind.  The  louder  they 
lament,  the  sooner  they  rejoice." 

"  Unfair — a  mere  statement !  "  Hazell  replied  an- 
grily. 

Miss  Fletcher  turned  upon  him,  looking  straight 
into  his  eyes. 


HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE  23 

"  Emily  Fagan's  whole  being  was  sacrificed  to 
the  selfishness  of  men,"  she  answered,  speaking 
slowly,  as  if  to  steady  her  voice.  "  The  girl  was  a 
born  artist.  She  sang  as  the  birds  sing,  as  the 
morning  stars  sing,  and  the  most  joyous,  the  only 
proper  life  for  her  would  have  been  to  sing  for  the 
whole  world.  Her  father,  masking  his  selfish  need 
of  her  in  a  cloak  of  his  petty  Puritan  prejudice,  for- 
bade it.  That  fathers  in  our,  as  we  call  ihem^free 
days  should  have  such  powers  !  He  disapproved — 
he  disapproved  !  Who  are  you  or  I,  what  was  he 
or  any  other  individual,  to  approve  or  disapprove — 
to  dispose  finally  of  a  human  being's  life  ?  "  She 
paused,  as  if  her  thoughts  came  too  thick  for 
speech. 

"The  girl  disposed  of  herself  in  her  marriage, 
from  what  I  hear,"  said  Hazell  quickly. 

"  Does  any  girl,  inexperienced,  swayed  on  the 
uncomprehended  waves  of  blind  feeling,  dispose  of 
herself  ?  You  might  as  well  say  the  raindrops  dis- 
pose of  themselves,  when  they  trickle  down  guid- 
ing ways  to  the  river  and  are  borne  to  the  sea. 
This  young  man,  who  indulges  his  grief  to-day  as 
he  indulged  his  love  yesterday,  urged  and  coaxed, 
and  besought  and  practically  compelled  her  to 
marry  him.  He  had  nothing  to  give  her  but  him- 
self and  his  two-roomed  shanty,  and  the  absorbing 
interest  of  making  ends  meet  on  thirteen  shillings 
a  week,  minus  his  beer-money ;  whereas  she  had 
been  accustomed  to  all  the  comforts  of  her  comfort- 
loving  class,  and  all  the  diversion  of  the  little  town. 
But  that  naturally  would  not  strike  him." 


24  HEAKTS  IMPOETUNATE 

"Love  levels  all  things,"  interrupted  Hazell; 
"  that  is  always  conceded." 

"It  does  not,  unfortunately,  level  a  taste  for 
drink,"  replied  Miss  Fletcher.  "  It  did  not  prevent 
Larry  Fagan  from  enjoying  himself  in  Beulah  one 
Saturday  a  couple  of  months  ago,  so  that  when  he 
came  to  drive  Emily  home  again,  road,  rut,  stump, 
creek  were  all  very  much  the  same  to  his  convivial 
eye,  and  by  and  by  the  cart  was  upset,  and  Emily 
was  bruised  and  shaken,  and  there — there  is  her 
grave ! " 

Miss  Fletcher  spoke  in  an  undertone,  because  of 
the  nearness  of  the  man  she  condemned,  but  never 
had  Hazell  heard  such  passion  in  a  woman's  voice ; 
her  face,  too,  pale,  and  with  features  sharpened, 
seemed  through  her  veil  to  burn  with  flame.  She 
concluded  bitterly : 

"  But  all  who  know  the  story  are  full  of  pity  for 
the  widower,  and  they  find  it  rather  an  added 
pleasing  excitement  of  their  nerves  that  the  guilty 
father  sits  to-day  at  the  receipt  of  custom  as  usual, 
with  unmoved  face,  as  though  he  had  never  had, 
nor  ever  ruined,  a  daughter.  Oh,  a  splendid  story  ! 
It  might  almost  make  a  play  !  Will  you  not  smile 
again,  Mr.  Hazell,  at  what  you  are  pleased  to  call 
the  irony  of  life  ?  " 

"  As  neither  you  nor  I  are  responsible,  and  neither 
you  nor  I  can  help,  I  think  it  is  better  to  smile  as  I 
do,  than  to  bay  the  heavens  as  you  do." 

"  A  man,  I  notice,  can  always  compound  for  his 
own  sins,  past,  present,  or  future,  by  amiable  toler- 
ance of  the  sins  of  other  men." 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  25 

"  Have  women  no  sins  ?  " 

"  I  dare  say,  but  I  seem  scarcely  to  see  them ; 
my  horizon  is  darkened  by  the  mountainous  pile  of 
men's." 

"  Is  that  so  ?  I  dare  say  it  is  big  enough,  but  as 
you  sneer  at  me,  Miss  Fletcher,  because  I  have  the 
misfortune  to  be  a  man,  I  will,  with  your  permis- 
sion, smile  at  you  — 

"  Because  I  am  a  woman  ?  " 

"No,"  snarled  Hazell  through  his  teeth;  "but 
because,  whereas  your  horizon  is  darkened  by  a 
theoretical  impersonal  wickedness  of  all  men  to  all 
women,  my  whole  noontide  is  for  evermore  black 
Avith  the  practical  treachery  of  one  woman  to  me  !  " 

"  What  do  you  know  of  my  experience  ?  "  Miss 
Fletcher  asked  him  abruptly;  and  then,  through 
his  own  disturbance  and  preoccupation,  he  saw  that 
she  checked  herself,  and  froze  into  rigidity,  as  if 
she  were  struck  by  sudden  pain. 

Halting,  irregular  steps  broke  the  silence  that 
followed  as  they  turned  together  to  see  the  little 
elderly  lady,  leaning  on  her  stick,  limping  toward 
them. 

"  Avis,  my  dear,  will  you  give  me  your  arm  ?  " 
she  asked  briskly,  and  winked  away  a  tear  from 
her  eyelid,  and  put  on  a  pleasant  worldly  manner 
as  she  added  :  "  Surely  this  gentleman  must  be  Mr. 
Hazell?" 


CHAPTER  III 

"  ONCE  more  I  deplore  my  own  gregariousness, 
and  repent  in  mental  sackcloth !  Not  three  weeks 
settled  here,  on  the  extreme  tail-hairs  of  civilisation, 
and  I  find  myself  promised  to  visit  neighbours.  It 
needn't,  however,  be  done." 

So  Hazell  reflected  as  he  sat  in  his  sitting-room  at 
half-past  six  in  the  morning,  polishing  his  favourite 
gun.  He  was  an  early  riser :  India  had  made  him 
so,  he  said ;  but  he  did  not  wish  to  be  exacting  to 
his  household.  By  means  of  a  spirit-lamp  he  could 
make  himself  a  great  cup  of  tea,  wherewith  to  en- 
joy his  first  pipe ;  and  he  liked  to  spend  a  quiet 
hour  or  two  cleaning  and  mending  his  sporting 
tackle,  looking  to  his  dogs  and  horses,  and  occup}r- 
ing  himself  generally  with  dirty  and  interesting 
work  of  an  Englishmanly  kind.  About  seven  o'clock 
he  expected  to  be  supplied  with  a  firkin  or  so  of 
boiling  water  (for  India  had  made  him  chilly)  with 
which  to  remove  the  traces  of  his  toil,  and  then 
came  breakfast ;  and  then  the  long  solitary  riding, 
which  seemed,  when  he  thought  of  the  future,  to 
fill  the  whole  vista  of  his  life. 

Mrs.  Brock,  who  had  kept  squatters'  houses  before 
this,  considered  that  he  had  strange  ways.  The 
early  rising  she  could  understand — there  are  hardy 
dwellers  in  the  Bush  who  begin  their  day  at  four  of 
the  clock — and  daily  hot  water,  though  inconvenient, 
26 


HEAETS  IMPOKTUNATE  27 

he  had  a  right  to  demand,  for  his  pay  was  good ; 
but  that  a  lonely  man  on  the  Mia-Mia  Plains  should 
dine  every  night  in  a  velvet  coat,  black  trousers  and 
pumps,  that  he  should  sleep  iu  the  afternoon,  and 
sit  up  till  one  or  two  every  morning,  these  things 
were  unnatural  and  un-Bush-like.  But  it  was  known 
quite  certainly,  though  it  would  have  been  difficult 
to  say  how,  that  he  had  been  a  soldier,  and  among 
the  crash  of  authorities  there  abides — at  all  events 
in  domestic  things — that  of  arms ;  and  further,  his 
temper  was  hot,  though  his  judgment  was  just ;  and, 
finally,  he  was  eminently  a  masterful  man,  whose 
servant  must  obey,  or  serve  elsewhere.  So  Hazell 
settled  down  in  his  own  fashion,  composed  of  Eng- 
land and  India  and  individual,  to  works  and  days  at 
Burrabindar. 

A  triumphant  hen  appeared  in  the  verandah, 
striding  and  darting  her  head  in  the  zigzag  course 
of  her  species,  clucking  hideously.  "  An  egg,  I  sup- 
pose," thought  Hazell ;  and  it  occurred  to  him  to 
seek  and  secure  it,  for  he  liked  eggs ;  and  though  he 
had  taken  over,  with  the  rest  of  the  live  stock  of  the 
station,  an  abundance  of  poultry,  nothing  had  come 
by  reason  of  them  so  far,  except  an  enormous  sack 
of  maize  from  Peter  Proudfoot.  The  morning  was 
delightful,  as  far  as  atmosphere  could  make  it  so. 
The  newly-risen  sun,  clear  as  crystal,  struck  straight 
upon  the  frost,  and  the  ground  glistened,  and  the 
gum-trees,  and  the  bare  boughs  of  the  fine  mulberry- 
tree  at  the  side  of  the  house,  and  the  deep  bed  of 
violets,  rich  with  bloom,  which  ran  round  the  edges 
of  the  verandah.  The  tall,  strong  figure  of  the  pro- 


28  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

prietor,  erect  and  impressive,  even  in  the  ugliness 
of  gaiters,  knickerbockers,  jersey,  and  coat,  all  of 
the  thickest,  oldest,  and  most  worn,  oil-stained,  mud- 
stained,  and  frayed,  stood  a  moment  without  the 
open  French  window,  surveying  what  had  once 
been  a  garden,  which  he  intended  should  be  a  gar- 
den again.  The  land  proximate  to  the  house  was 
neglected  and  barren,  till  it  hardly  differed  from  the 
flats  of  the  run ;  the  flowers  and  flowering  trees  of 
it  had  died  away  to  no  more  than  the  bed  of  violets, 
a  few  belated  roses,  and  a  straggling  oleander.  The 
ground  was  dry,  burnt  by  heat  and  cold,  grassless, 
obstinate-looking — never  anywhere  was  there  less 
promise  of  a  gracious  and  tender  vegetation ;  but 
from  some  care  in  watering,  and  the  shelter  of  their 
place,  the  violets  were  superb.  Straw  had  been  put 
about  the  roots  of  the  roses,  and  the  coming  spring 
and  summer  should  be  given  to  trenching  and  plant- 
ing ;  and  failing  the  rain,  so  much  desired,  so  long 
due,  the  earth  should  be  tapped  at  whatever  cost  for 
her  hidden  supplies.  Hazell  was  resolved  upon  per- 
fection in  every  part  of  his  estate.  Surely  the  whole 
energy,  the  whole  determination,  of  a  brave  man 
might  do  this ! 

The  egg  lay  in  the  straw  under  the  rose-bushes. 
It  was  pocketed,  and  the  squatter  walked  to  the 
back  of  his  premises  to  survey  the  hens.  "  A  good 
hundred  of  them,  and  not  another  of  the  pack,  I 
dare  say,  doing  her  duty,"  he  told  himself,  and  con- 
cluded that  he  did  not  understand  fowls.  Such  a 
supply  of  maize  and  pollard,  such  an  extent  of  run, 
such  a  pother  of  pecking  and  clucking  and  hurrying, 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  29 

and  never  an  egg  for  his  breakfast.  Mrs.  Brock 
was  so  entirely  in  externals  what  a  mature  widow 
should  be,  that  her  interior  was  no  doubt  suitably 
wise  and  skilful,  and  above  error  as  above  pecula- 
tion. Yet  Hazell  knew  that  one  should  beware  of 
widows.  It  might  be  well  to  write  to  Sydney  for 
the  standard  book  on  poultry-keeping,  for  the  mas- 
ter should  know  every  detail  of  all  that  concerns 
him.  Yet  the  advice  of  some  practical  person  is 
surely,  in  all  circumstances,  the  best  value :  one  can 
question,  and  get  replies.  Mrs.  Bolitho,  for  instance, 
an  intelligent  and  vivacious  woman  of  long  expe- 
rience, probably  knew  everything  to  be  known 
about  fowls.  Hazell  frowned,  and  shook  his  head 
impatiently,  angry  to  find  himself  on  the  verge  of 
temptation.  He  poked  about  the  wood-heap  on  the 
chance  of  discovering  another  egg,  then  made  his 
way  to  the  kitchen-  garden,  where  Soy  Ching  was 
watering.  The  industrious  creature  was  alone,  and, 
in  his  native  way,  carried  a  large  can  on  each  end 
of  a  long  thin  pole,  which  lay  across  his  shoulders, 
thus,  bending  forward,  he  poured  a  double  stream 
upon  the  rows  of  vegetables.  His  master  watched 
him  a  moment,  then  recollecting,  called : 

"  Where's  your  mate  ?  Is  he  taking  a  holiday  ?  " 
As  though  warned  of  his  employer's  habits,  and 
waiting  for  inspection,  the  mate,  the  ferret-faced 
tramp,  came  from  behind  an  out-house,  where  he 
stood  basking  in  the  sun,  and  advanced  full  of 
words : 

"  My  intentions  is  quite  straight,  sir ;  but  a  'oli- 
day  is  forced  upon  me,  for  'ow  kin  a  man  work,  sir, 


30  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

when  'is  'ands  is  all  disabled  with  Bathurst  burrs  ? 
It's  work  I  desire,  and  am  ready  for ;  but  where  I 
come  from  last  week,  where  I  was  doin'  a  bit  o' 
shearin',  the  fleece  is  alive  with  burrs,  and  I  'ad  to 
give  'em  best,  I  'ad,  with  my  pore  'ands  real  ter- 
rible and  'elpless,  and  I  started  to  tramp  to  see 
what  the  Bush  'd  bring  forth " 

"  Why  do  you  offer  to  undertake  work  ?  "  inter- 
rupted Hazell,  looking  sternly  into  the  narrow-set, 
shifty  eyes  before  him. 

"  They  was  on  the  mend,  sir,  Gawd's  trewth  they 
was,  till  I  started  to  use  'em,  carryin'  cans  for  John 
there,  which  made  'em  start  again  crool,  all  cramped 
like,  for  the  burrs  is  in  'em  still,  and  I  reckon  now 
my  best  plan  will  be  to  let  'em  fester  out,  and  then, 
if  you're  convenient,  sir,  I'd  be  pleased  to  make  up 
arrears  o'  work."  The  man  held  out  a  pair  of  curi- 
ously-blotched hands — unsightly,  the  fingers  stiff- 
ened, and  continued  plausibly:  "You  may  call 
yourself  lucky,  I  kin  assure  you,  sir,  if  you  don't 
never  'ave  no  trouble  with  these  said  burrs  on  the 
run.  There  ain't  no  reason  for  their  haction,  like 
the  wind  wherever  it  listeth,  so  that  no  man  sayeth 
where  it  cometh,  or  whence  it  goeth,  and  bringin' 
down  values  to  nothin',  and  eatin'  their  way,  times, 
right  into  the  sheep's  skin " 

"  If  your  hands  are  likely  to  be  long  in  healing,  I 
don't  see  what  good  you  can  do  here.  The  nearest 
infirmary  is  the  best  place  for  you." 

"  You  bein'  a  newcomer,  sir,  it's  unknown  to  you 
that  infirmaries  and  such  like  ain't  everywhere  to 
'and  like  the  old  country,  but  I  might  tramp  a  mort 


HEAKTS IMPORTUNATE  31 

o'  miles,  and  then  where  would  I  get  the  ticket  to 
get  in  ?  Now,  what  I  was  wishin'  to  say  to  you, 
sir,  since  yesterday,  that  it'd  be  a  favour  and  a  kind 
hact,  and  which  you'd  not  repent,  for  me  to  stay  on 
here,  where  I  am  known  to  you." 

"  Known  to  me  !  But  that  is  exactly  what  you 
are  not,  my  man,  except  as  a  fellow  with  an  ex- 
traordinary gift  of  the  gab." 

"  I  'ave  been  on  the  station  three  days  with  good 
be'aviour,  and  that  is  not  the  case  with  any  other 
where  I  might  tramp,  for  what  can  a  man  do  in  my 
place  but  sundownin'  ?  and  a  new  place  every 
night,  and  not  able  to  earn  my  tucker  for  my  pore 
'ands,  which  is  painful  to  the  feelings." 

Hazell  disliked  the  speaker  instinctively,  but  he 
was  just  in  his  dealings.  Inflamed  wounds  need 
rest,  and  a  few  days'  rations  were  of  small  cost,  and 
there  was  the  trending  to  be  done.  He  stood  con- 
sidering. The  man  watched  his  face,  and  read  the 
doubt  of  his  mind. 

"  Luke  Rennard  is  my  name,  sir,  from  Southamp- 
tonshire  ;  bred  to  farm- work,  and  come  out  'ere  six 
years  since  to  better  myself." 

"I  don't  ask  you  any  questions,"  said  Hazell 
shortly. 

"  It's  Gawd's  trewth,  sir,  what  I  tell  you,  as  the 
lady  could  answer  who  was  with  you  the  first 
evenin' — the  lady  with  the  'air,  sir,  on  'orseback." 

The  watchful  eyes  were  rewarded  by  seeing  a 
distinct  pause  as  of  the  whole  body  of  the  master  of 
Burrabindar,  who  asked  slowly  : 

"  The  lady  ?    Do  you  mean  Miss  Fletcher  ?  " 


32  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

"  I  do  mean  'er.  I  knew  'er  when  she  were  a 
tiny  mite.  I  knew  'er  agin  as  soon  as  I  see  'er, 
though  I  'adn't  no  reason  to  expect  'er  bein'  'ere  at 
the  Antipodys,  as  they  say,  and  it  did  surprise  me" 

Hazell  turned  away,  closing  the  subject. 

"  I  shall  consider  that  you  owe  me  a  week's  work 
when  you  can  do  it,  and  after  that  we  shall  see." 

He  strolled  thoughtfully  among  Soy  Ching's 
careful  furrows. 

Really,  the  odds  were  not  great,  either  way,  in 
having  an  extra  man  upon  a  station.  What  harm, 
if  so  disposed,  could  he  do  ?  No  money  lay  about 
for  stealing,  because  coin  is  of  little  use  in  the 
Bush,  and  with  books  or  plate,  marked  sheep,  or 
branded  horses,  a  thief  could  not  get  far  uncaught, 
nor  make  much  of  an  exchange.  Besides,  if  Miss 
Fletcher  did  really  know  him,  and  would  to  some 
extent  vouch  for  him  —  Again  the  call  at  Waina- 
gatta  seemed  likely  ;  again,  angrily,  he  put  the  idea 
aside.  What  voucher  did  he  want  with  an  odd 
employe  ?  If  the  rascal  worked,  he  might  stay  ;  if 
idle,  he  should  go — that  was  all. 

"  You  likee  lettuce  ?  "  inquired  Soy  Ching,  draw- 
ing near,  seeing  that  his  master  prodded  with  his 
stick  in  one  of  the  trenches. 

"  Oh,  very  much — oh  yes !  I  like  some  sort  of 
salad  all  the  year  round,  please.  Put  in  some  more 
when  these  are  gone." 

"  Next  after  lettuce,  japolikee,"  Soy  Ching  cor- 
rected blandly. 

"What  is  that?" 

"  Velly  ni',  japolikee." 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  33 

"  I  don't  know  it.  You  needn't  try  any  Chinese 
vegetables.  From  the  look  of  these  trenches,  I 
should  say  they  would  do  very  well  for  asparagus." 

"Allee  same,  japolikee,"  replied  the  gardener, 
smiling  broadly.  "  Winter  lettuce,  same  place  japo- 
likee." 

"  I  hope  japolikee  is  better  than  it  sounds,  as  it 
seems  there  is  some  rule  about  it ;  but,  remember,  I 
want  asparagus  too,"  Hazell  insisted. 

"Allee  same,  japolikee,"  replied  the  Chinaman, 
unmoved. 

Hazell  went  indoors,  wondering  if  there  was  a 
grammar  of  pigeon-English,  which  he  might  order 
with  the  work  on  poultry-farming.  On  every  side 
his  attempted  conduct  of  affairs  seemed  met  with 
tiny  deadlocks.  They  must  be  broken.  He  was 
resolved  to  know  every  particular  of  the  estate. 
People  who  had  lived  here  a  long  time  and  em- 
ployed Chinamen  from  the  beginning  would  per- 
haps know  the  meaning  of  this  japolikee,  which  was 
all  the  same.  All  the  same,  this  pigtailed  John 
was  right,  devil  take  it !  His  natural  love  for  his 
fellow-creatures  and  craving  for  their  society  was 
none  the  weaker  that  he  had  renounced  them  all  in 
rage  and  come  away  here,  to  the  very  edge  of  hu- 
man things,  to  occupy  his  life  in  practical  imper- 
sonal detail.  It  was  intolerable  !  It  should  not  be 
so  !  He  handed  in  his  egg,  took  over  his  hot  water, 
and  relieved  the  rapid  congestion  of  his  brain  by 
the  parboiling  of  the  rest  of  him. 

As  he  sat  at  breakfast,  clean  and  glossy,  neatly 
clothed  in  brown  tweed,  Mrs.  Brock  came  in.  ac- 


34:  HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE 

cording  to  her  morning  custom,  assumed  a  chair 
near  the  door,  and  inquired  his  wishes  for  the  day. 
Her  mien  was  perfectly  reassuring,  perfectly  appro- 
priate to  her  profession  of  housekeeping.  Her 
well-established  stoutness  was  that  which  is  ex- 
pected in  women  of  mature  age  ;  her  liberal  chins, 
smooth  bands  of  hair,  fat  voice,  and  small  grey 
eyes,  marked  her  as  a  suitable  person  to  have  the 
care  of  an  unrelated  male. 

"  There  is  no  post  to-day  to  come  back  for,  so  I 
shall  ride  to  the  top  of  the  run,  Mrs.  Brock,  and 
look  to  the  men  at  the  fencing  there.  I  shall  not 
be  home,  I  expect,  till  about  dinner-time.  Please 
give  me  a  few  biscuits  and  a  pinch  of  tea  and  sugar 
in  my  sandwich  case." 

Thus  Hazell  delivered  himself,  above  the  ruins  of 
porridge,  ham,  and  the  egg. 

"  One  of  your  long  rides,  to  be  sure,"  said  his 
housekeeper  soothingly.  "  And  what  do  you  fancy 
for  your  dinner  ?  " 

"  Is  there  anything  available  besides  mutton  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure,  there's  not  such  a  great  variety," 
said  Mrs.  Brock  cheerfully.  "  If  we  were  sending 
in,  indeed,  it's  not  beef  day  in  Beulah ;  and  a  fowl 
you  had  yesterday " 

"Well,  there  are  worse  things  than  mutton," 
Hazell  acquiesced,  stretching  an  arm  for  the  honey- 
jar. 

"Unless,  indeed,  it  were  the  guinea-fowl  that 
strayed  in  this  morning.  Joe  caught  him,  in  prime 
condition,  as  I  judge.  Could  you  fancy  a  guinea- 
fowl,  now,  do  you  think,  Mr.  Hazell  ?  " 


HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE  35 

"  No  difficulty  at  all.  But  did  you  not  say  it  had 
strayed  here,  Mrs.  Brock  ?  " 

"  There's  no  one  else  I  know  keeps  guinea-fowls 
but  Mrs.  Mum  ford,  the  manager's  wife  at  Brooksby 
(you  would  have  seen  her  at  the  funeral  yesterday, 
Mr.  Hazell,  a  very  nice  little  lady  in  a  black  beige 
— not  that  you  would  notice  its  being  beige,  of 
course — but  they  drive  a  flea-bitten  grey),  and  the 
birds  are  terrible  for  wandering — which  is  my 
drawback  to  them.  You  may  have  noticed  that 
there  are  none  about  the  place — the  turkeys  are 
plague  enough,  goodness  knows !  fully  one  person's 
work  to  catch  'em.  Of  course,  if  it  had  come  all 
these  miles  from  Brooksby,  it  might  ha'  come 
further " 

"  But  have  I  any  right  to  eat  Mrs.  Mumford's 
poultry  ?  " 

"  As  to  right,  I  couldn't  say,  I'm  sure ;  but  the 
bird,  not  being  marked  or  in  any  way  acknowl- 
edged, is  here  in  Burrabindar,  and,  nicely  roasted, 
is  excellent  eating.  I'm  partial  to  it  myself." 

"  That  decides  me,  then,  Mrs.  Brock.  Legally  I 
am  'no  doubt  safe ;  morally,  if  I  deteriorate,  you 
will  deteriorate  with  me  ;  and  if  at  any  time  Mrs. 
Mumford  should  come  along  full  of  inquiry,  we  will 
confess  and  pay  her  the  market  value." 

Hazell  brushed  his  waistcoat  free  of  crumbs,  and 
went  to  the  mantelpiece  to  choose  a  pipe. 

"  There's  no  objection,  I  suppose,  to  my  having 
the  buggy  into  Beulah  to-day,  Mr.  Hazell,  if  you've 
no  other  intentions  for  Joe  ?  " 

"  "Well,  I  had  meant  him  to  help  in  the  garden,  as 


36  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

that  new  vagabond  is  of  no  use  for  the  present ; 
but,  of  course,  Mrs.  Brock,  if  you  really  want 
him " 

"There's  several  things  required  from  Proud- 
foot's,  Mr.  Hazell." 

"  Oh,  quite  so  !  It  should  be  pleasant  for  driving 
— not  too  much  wind." 

"  I  wonder,"  thought  Hazell,  as  he  took  his  way 
to  the  stables,  "  how  many  other  curious  creatures 
will  go  to-day  to  gape  at  Proudf  oot  in  his  cage  ? — 
cage,  I  dare  say,  of  silent  pride  and  awful  suffering. 
I  don't  grudge  him  the  price  of  another  sack  of 
maize.  It  may  go  as  an  offset  to  being  nine  days' 
meat  for  human  gadflies.  Behaved  badly  !  Very 
likely." 

A  strong,  showy  grey  horse  was  waiting  saddled 
by  the  stable-door.  He  threw  his  leg  over  it,  and 
started  quickly  across  the  creek,  in  what  for  the  last 
few  days  he  had  called  to  himself  Diana's  Track. 
Suddenly  he  spurred  the  animal  to  a  canter,  crying 
aloud : 

"  Behaved  badly,  did  he  ?  I  tell  you  there  are 
times  when  a  man  has  a  right  to  behave  badly ! " 

Hour  after  hour,  under  a  hot  sun  in  a  cloudless 
sky,  he  rode  through  the  run,  for  the  most  part  at 
the  brisk  walk  in  which  Australian  horses  excel. 
His  course  was  devious,  hither  and  thither,  now  to 
inspect  a  mob  of  drab  sheep  scattered  on  a  hillside, 
and,  from  their  colour,  hard  to  be  seen  by  an  un- 
practised eye;  now  intent  on  new  lambs,  which 
greatly  taxed  his  unskilled  observation  ;  or  dis- 
mounting to  help  an  awkward  ewe  which  had  fixed 


HEAETS  IMPOETUNATE  37 

herself  in  an  impossible  attitude,  with  her  head 
thrown  back,  and  was  prepared  to  die  so.  He  went 
off  at  a  tangent  here  and  there  to  see  if  the  troughs 
were  supplied  with  rocksalt,  and  once  he  secured 
the  horse  and  spent  some  time  with  his  tomahawk 
about  a  grove  of  sapling  gums — undesired,  vigorous 
things — which  were  pushing  with  all  their  might  in 
a  half-cleared  flat.  It  was  his  rule  to  pass  nothing 
that  he  could  do  himself,  and  it  was  only  by  slow 
degrees  and  after  noon  that  he  reached  the  furthest 
end  of  the  run,  where  three  men  were  setting  a 
wire  fence  to  subdivide  a  large  paddock.  Except 
for  a  few  sunburnt  children  playing  among  the  pigs 
and  poultry  round  a  selector's  hut,  he  had  seen  no 
being  of  his  own  kind  since  leaving  the  homestead. 
His  way  had  been  through  stretches  of  pale  scorched 
grass,  over  dry  and  rocky  hillsides,  down  deep,  steep 
gullies  where  the  watercourse  was  dry  and  all  alike 
grown  thinly  with  the  grey  eucalyptus.  The  colour 
of  the  whole  was  extraordinarily  dead  and  monot- 
onous, and  accentuated,  rather  than  relieved,  by  the 
occasional  bloom  of  a  wattle-bush.  Here  and  there 
the  deadness  of  the  scheme  came  to  its  climax  in  an 
extent  of  dead  timber,  ring-barked  years  ago,  stand- 
ing gaunt  and  ashen,  a  weird  vision  of  dry  bones. 
The  wild,  sunny  silence  was  broken  only  by  the 
strange,  detached  notes  of  the  Bush  birds — the 
sharp  quaver  of  the  leatherhead,  the  chord  of  the 
magpie,  the  lament  of  the  carrion-crow,  the  mad 
scream  of  the  white  cockatoo — and  now  and  again 
a  flock  of  paroquets,  brilliant  as  jewels  in  their 
glistening  red  and  green,  made  a  brief  flight  and 


38  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

much  chatter  from  tree  to  tree.  The  untiring  sun 
had  parched  it  all,  bleached  it  all,  drained  it  all,  ex- 
sanguine, and  it  was  lonely  beyond  the  dream  of 
the  misanthrope. 

Hazell  chose  a  comfortable  hollow  at  the  side  of  a 
creek,  and  collecting  a  few  of  the  abundant  fallen 
twigs  and  boughs,  with  a  tinder  of  the  spicy  leaves, 
he  made  himself  a  fire  and  boiled  his  little  billy. 
He  ate  his  biscuits,  drank  his  tea,  and  lay  down  for 
his  midday  sleep.  It  was  a  long  one,  and  the  light 
was  well  to  the  west  when  he  raised  himself,  chilly 
and  ill  at  ease,  as  sometimes  a  child  from  its  morn- 
ing nap,  to  take  up  the  interrupted  day.  His  pur- 
pose seemed  exhausted,  his  resolve  inadequate,  his 
interest  fallen  ;  his  veins  were  dull  with  unconquer- 
able melancholy,  and  the  blackest  care  was  his  sad- 
dle-companion. This  he  thought  was  the  way  he 
had  chosen  out  of  all  possible  ways  for  his  life  to  its 
close :  to  ride  solitary,  year  by  year,  through  a  wan 
wilderness,  to  and  from  an  unlovely  solitary  home, 
where  no  one  cared — where  there  was  no  one  who 
could  care !  No  one  was  to  blame ;  it  had  been  an 
unhurried,  voluntary  choice,  the  purchase  of  this  bit 
of  wilderness,  neglected  by  former  owners,  cursed 
by  overmuch  sunshine,  which  would  need  a  sane 
and  strong  master's  entire  thought  and  energy  that 
it  might  be  made,  after  its  fashion,  fair.  He  had 
thought  of  it  as  a  healthy  masculine  work,  worth 
the  doing,  and  by  its  difficulty  likely  to  be  absorb- 
ing to  the  mind,  and  by  its  strangeness  likely  to 
create  new  spirit  within  him.  The  old  spirit — that 
of  the  keen  soldier,  the  pleasant,  prosperous  man  of 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  39 

the  world — had  become  so  full  of  pain  and  revolt, 
so  weary  within  him,  that  it  had  seemed  best  to  let 
it  die,  and  though  half  his  bodily  span  was  already 
measured,  to  raise  another  from  its  ashes  and  begin 
again.  But,  if  spirit  were  immortal,  if  its  change, 
to  be  radical,  must  be  attempted  earlier,  or  if  in  his 
case  it  had  been  so  forcibly  and  harshly  moulded 
and  welded  to  one  figure  that  it  could  never  be- 
come otherwise,  then,  to  what  purpose  Burrabindar 
and  the  struggle  of  it  ? 

The  endless  silence  which  had  appeared  so  heav- 
enly soothing  to  his  longing  when  England  and 
Anglo-India  gossiped  of  his  name  and  his  disgrace, 
the  solitude  for  which  he  had  been  so  greedy,  that 
he  might  avoid  the  falseness  of  women,  the  contact 
of  happier  men — these  were  growing  intolerable. 
Why  study  the  habits  of  fowls  and  the  breeding  of 
sheep  by  day,  if  by  night  one  sat  brooding,  brood- 
ing, alive  in  the  past,  till  far  into  the  morning? 
Better  to  have  stayed  among  one's  own  kind,  and 
to  have  lived  all  down  in  human  society,  which  so 
soon  forgets ;  then  the  forgetting  would  have  been 
of  his  story,  not  of  himself;  now  himself  was 
blotted  out,  but  doubtless,  when  needed  to  point  a 
moral,  the  talk  remained.  In  any  case,  moreover, 
why  this  great  estate  ?  Would  it  not  have  been 
better  to  lounge  out  his  rest  of  years  on  some  sand- 
fringed  islet,  lost  in  equatorial  seas,  where  the  lithe 
brown  people  laugh  to  the  silvery  rustlings  of  the 
palms,  where  needs  are  few,  and  languor  loses  count 
of  time  ?  If  one  is  only  to  brood,  and  brood,  and 
brood,  with  hours  of  defying  the  lightnings,  better 


40  HEAETS  IMPOETUNATE 

to  do  so  in  luxury  and  ease  than  with  the  strain  and 
burden  added  of  a  harassing  career.  If  one  did 
really  forget,  in  the  complexities  of  the  fowl-run 
and  the  pig-paddock,  then  welcome  farming,  and 
well  spent  thousands  that  have  made  one  a  farmer ! 
But  if  one's  sub-consciousness  is  fixed  on  memory, 
and  it  is  only  one's  thinnest  surface  that  is  moved 
by  these  hateful  meaningless  creatures,  then — 
"Hold  up,  miner!  No  dozing!"  Though,  why 
not  doze  ?  What  should  one  hurry  home  for  ?  The 
guinea-fowl  for  one,  and  the  eternal  evening  by  the 
fire  ?  Click !  "Was  that  the  sound  of  billiard-balls  ? 
Surely  the  sound  is  unmistakable.  And  yet,  bil- 
liard-balls here  in  the  Bush !  What  a  fool  one  is  ! 
Drowsy  Miner  stumbles  again,  and  the  pannikin 
rattles  within  the  billy  as  they  hang  at  the  saddle. 
A  drifting  mind  reverts  to  a  green  cloth,  and  films 
of  tobacco-smoke  curling  about  shaded  lamps,  and 
the  comely  figures  of  well-set-up  men,  cheery  from 
the  mess. 

Five  miles  to  the  homestead  from  this  line  of  she- 
oaks,  and  the  evening  chill  falling  earlier,  surely,  for 
surely  the  sun  was  setting  earlier,  if  that  could  be 
in  the  spring!  The  jackasses — his  own  particular 
jackasses — will  have  done  their  laugh  by  the  time 
he  reaches  their  bin,  but  the  laugh  will  have  been 
there !  Indeed,  he  may  hear  it  elsewhere,  for  there 
is  no  lack  of  birds  to  mock,  and  no  lack  of  folly  for 
them  to  mock  at.  How  could  she?  Oh!  how 
could  she  ?  He  who  loved  her  so !  Whose  heart 
had  been  consumed  with  tenderness  and  worship, 
whom  she  knew  to  be  her  slave  !  And  they  asked 


HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE  41 

him  why  he  would  not  speak?  He  would  never 
speak.  If  she  who  knew  him  could  bring  so  foul  a 
charge,  he  would  scorn  to  meet  it.  "  Ha-ha-ha-ha, 
ho-ho-ho-ho,  ha,ha,ha  !  "  There  it  comes — the  sun- 
set laugh — faintly  from  a  distance,  through  the 
cold,  still  air,  where  at  hand  a  couple  of  fat  birds 
take  it  up,  and  fill  one's  brain  with  it,  which  is  to 
fill  one's  world.  And  so  another  day  is  over.  Now 
to  eat  guinea-fowl,  and  make  good  blood  and  muscle 
to  keep  one  going  through  another  brooding  night, 
and  on  to  another  aimless  morning — aimless,  except 
for  fencing  and  fowls  and  such  excellent  things. 
Why  eat  ?  Why  do  anything  ?  Why  not  die  and 
so  forget  ? 

As  midnight  wore  to  dawn,  Hazell  came  to  a  de- 
termination with  himself.  This  was  his  twentieth 
evening  as  the  master  of  Burrabindar.  If  by  the 
twenty-first  no  human  fellowship  had  stemmed  and 
changed  the  clanging  torrent  of  his  thoughts,  he 
must  go  mad.  Of  course  there  was  his  gun;  it 
would  do  him  the  final  service,  but  he  had  been  so 
far  too  proud  for  death,  and  he  was  not  willing  to 
yield  now.  It  might  be  that  he  could  not  bear  the 
life,  however  mitigated — there  had  always  been  a 
joke  against  him  that  he  would  rather  hob-nob  with 
a  drummer-boy  than  go  alone — but  he  would  not 
give  it  up  so  soon.  She  might  hear,  and  guess  him 
beaten — she  !  Oh,  that  vixen,  that  splendid  hunt- 
ing Diana,  who  dazzled  him  with  her  crown  of  gold 
and  withered  him  with  her  rage  against  the  sins  of 
men  to  women — if  she  could  only  know  that  all  the 
sins  of  all  the  men  to  women  were  not  equal  to  the 


42  HEAETS  IMPOETUNATE 

injury  of  that  woman— her,  his  wife— to  him,  him- 
self! 

He  was  stiff  with  sitting.  He  left  his  chair  and 
kicked  together  the  embers  of  the  sinking  fire.  His 
face  was  pale,  and  his  brows  knitted  over  his  fierce 
light  eyes ;  his  hair,  ruffled  with  impatient  hands, 
showed  its  thinness  about  the  temples,  and  his  head 
was  sunk  from  its  fine  customary  poise.  Yet  a 
shrewd  spectator,  understanding  something  of  the 
workings  of  the  soul,  might  have  noted,  within  the 
worn  and  weary  body,  the  virility  of  his  passion, 
and  the  sanity  of  his  control  of  it,  and  might  have 
foretold  victory,  whatever  his  foe,  if  he  would  fight 
on. 


CHAPTER  IY 

"  A  HANDSOME  man ;  and  all  my  life— I  own  it — 
I  have  felt  more  tenderly  than  not  toward  a  hand- 
some man." 

Mrs.  Bolitho  was  sitting  in  her  drawing-room, 
president  at  the  table  of  afternoon-tea.  She  ad- 
dressed herself  to  Avis  Fletcher,  who  stood  com- 
paring skeins  of  silk  with  an  elaborate  embroidered 
design,  which  for  convenience  of  light  and  height 
was  pinned  to  the  window-curtain. 

"That  is  a  side  of  you  which  I  never  under- 
stand," she  answered,  "  and  I  cannot  believe  it  true. 
It  is  not  like  the  rest  of  you;  it  is  a  gross  in  jus- 
tice." 

"  That,"  replied  Mrs.  Bolitho, "  depends  on  whether 
beauty  is  real  or  imaginary.  If  it  is  real,  then  it 
has  a  real  value,  and  the  injustice  would  be  to  ig- 
nore it,  which  is  philosophy.  But,  as  a  matter  of 
solid  fact,  when  I  was  a  girl  I  know  I  should  have 
thought  things  very  unjust  if  my  good  looks  had 
not  met  with  a  great  deal  of  consideration.  What 
do  you  say,  Spencer  ?  What  do  you  think  of  the 
Tightness  or  wrongness  of  admiring  a  pretty 
woman  ?  " 

She  turned  to  the  third  person  in  the  room — 
an  old  man  of  huge  frame,  thin  and  round-shoul- 
dered with  the  weight  of  years,  who  sat  in  an  arm- 
chair by  the  fire,  and  watched  it  with  drowsing 
43 


44  HEAKTb  IMPOKTUNATE 

eyes.  He  roused  himself  at  her  question,  and  an- 
swered, in  the  bluff,  brisk  tones  of  bygone  fashion : 

"What's  that,  eh,  my  dear?  Think  about  a 
pretty  woman  ?  Of  course,  I  always  made  a  point 
of  thinkin'  about  a  pretty  woman  as  much  as  pos- 
sible." 

"  Oh,  of  course  you  did,"  said  Avis  quickly,  "  and 
I  should  have  abominated  you  in  those  days.  As  it 
is,  I  like  you  only  because " 

"  Because  the  hair  is  grey,  and  his  teeth  are  out, 
and  his  claws  are  blunt,  and  there  is  a  far-off  ring 
about  the  loudest  of  his  roaring.  I  know,  Miss  Avis 
—I  know." 

There  was  regret  in  the  old  voice,  and  the  hearers 
of  it  paused  an  instant  in  respect,  in  answering 
sympathy,  and  because  the  inevitable  is  ever  met  by 
silence.  Life  had  meant  strength  and  gaiety  and 
gallantry  for  Spencer  Bolitho,  but  at  eighty -two 
there  comes  quietness,  and  the  veil  faces  one.  Often 
in  the  past  it  has  flapped  with  the  winds  of  destiny 
till  we  seemed  almost  to  touch  it ;  often  the  tides 
of  fortune  have  swirled  us  almost  to  its  turn  before 
they  receded  with  us,  and  we  were  drawn  into  a 
safer  current. 

The  master  of  "Wamagatta,  one  of  the  halest  and 
the  least  thoughtful  of  men,  looked  into  the  flaming 
logs  before  him,  and  saw  them  dark  with  the  com- 
ing mist.  Leaning  on  her  stick,  his  wife  left  her 
chair  to  bring  a  cup  of  tea,  and  stood  by  him,  say- 
ing nothing,  carefully  arranging  a  spoon  and  a  piece 
of  cake  in  the  saucer,  and  devoting  a  minute  to  the 
careful  balancing  of  the  whole  on  his  gaunt  knee. 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  45 

He  was  twenty  years  older  than  she,  and  for  twice 
that  length  of  time  they  had  lived  together ;  but 
all  her  romance  lay  about  him,  and  she  grudged  its 
passing  away.  It  is  often  so,  surely,  with  the  wives 
of  handsome,  older  men.  One  expects — however 
much  one  regrets,  one  does  not  resent  the  death  of 
the  aged,  who  at  their  best  are  delightful  figures  of 
reminiscence ;  but  they  stand,  in  all  their  dryness, 
the  sole  embodiment  of  all  the  bloom  and  the  beauty 
of  life  for  the  women  who  have  loved  them — who 
for  love's  sake  and  of  keen  sympathy  have  in  many 
ways  aged  with  them,  and  grown  graver  than  their 
years — whose  hearts  are  often  still  fresh,  and  their 
fancy  unwearied. 

"  You  will  not  go  to  Sydney,  then,  Avis  ?  "  said 
Mrs.  Bolitho,  returning  to  the  tea-table. 

"  I  will  not,  though  I  foresee  years  of  correspond- 
ence before  I  can  get  silks  of  the  exact  tones  I  want. 
'Country  orders  faithfully  executed,'  indeed!  I 
wish  I  could  draw  up  a  few  shop  advertisements ; 
there  should  be  some  show  of  truth  about  them." 

"  But  the  world,  my  dear  Avis,  loves  to  be  de- 
ceived. No  one  would  go  near  your  shops." 

"  I  assure  you,  aunty,  I  would  be  judicious.  In- 
stead of  '  Country  orders  faithfully  executed,'  I 
would  say,  '  Approximations  from  stock  in  hand  at 
increased  values  for  the  benefit  of  country  custo- 
mers.' There  is  a  grandiose  ring  about  that  which 
would  attract  many — ah !  and  not  the  rustic  only, 
believe  me.  Yet  such  an  announcement  would 
morally  cover  the  action  of  the  tradesman  who, 
when  you  write  to  him,  '  Have  you  the  pink  pearl 


46  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

trimming  of  the  bonnet  of  the  latest  fashion  ? '  re- 
plies in  this  style  of  Ollendorff,  *  No,  but  I  have  the 
blue  Ugly  of  the  bathing-wife  of  old  Brighton,' 
which  he  sends  you,  which  you  probably  accept  and 
wear,  and  your  friends  in  admiration  try  to  secure 
the  like." 

"Ah,  she  can't  talk  at  all,  Miss  Avis,"  said  Mr. 
Bolitho,  and  rose  slowly.  "  I  must  have  my  after- 
noon walk  round.  I  suppose  you  won't  come  with 
me,  young  lady,  as  you  are  puttin'  out  your  fine 
eyes  with  that  nasty  needlework  ?  If  there's  any- 
thin'  I  hate,  it  is  to  see  a  charmin'  woman  doin' 
needlework." 

"  No,  I  shall  not  come.  If  there's  anything  I 
hate,  it  is  to  be  called  a  charming  woman,  or  any 
kind  of  woman  qua  woman,"  replied  Avis. 

"  It's  a  thing,  my  dear,  you're  likely  to  have  to 
put  up  with  very  frequently  in  the  course  of  your 
life,"  answered  the  old  gentleman  dryly,  and  patted 
her  cheek  with  his  big  bony  hand  as  he  passed  with 
the  stiff  short  steps  of  age  out  of  the  room. 

"I  wish  there  were  no  men  and  no  women," 
cried  Avis ;  "  only  a  kind  of  intelligent  and  slightly 
materialized  angel." 

"  My  constitution  is  not  adapted  for  that  kind  of 
world,"  answered  Mrs.  Bolitho,  "  and  I  should  find 
it  dull.  Taking  them  all  round,  I  like  men,  and,  as 
I  said  before,  I  like  them  handsome." 

"  I  reject  the  temptation  of  good  looks ;  it  leads 
only  to  folly.  Here  is  this  newcomer  at  Burrabin- 
dar,  of  whom  you  know  nothing,  except  that  he 
must  have  more  money  than  wit  to  buy  that  great 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  4T 

neglected  run-to-waste  property,  and  you  definitely 
commit  yourself  to  liking  him  because  his  appear- 
ance pleases  you.  He  seemed  to  me  more  than 
usually  full  of  the  usual  male  fallacies  and  fatuities, 
and  I  can't  think  why  you  insisted  on  his  promise 
to  come  here." 

"  I  am  not  like  you,  Avis  ;  I  find  my  fellow-crea- 
tures the  best  of  books,  and  they  afford  me  the 
change  and  excitement  which  I  need,  which  used 
to  be  so  dear  to  me — used  to  be,  I  say."  A  ripple 
of  vivacity  ran  over  Mrs.  Bolitho's  face,  making 
her  a  generation  younger.  "  Wouldn't  I  go  to 
Sydney  if  I  had  no  leg,  and  no  Spencer,  and  no 
conscience !  Haven't  I  been  through  the  Cup  week 
here  and  in  Melbourne  in  the  flourishing  old  times, 
when  money  flowed  like  water?  Right  through 
the  whole  programme — all  the  garden-parties,  all 
the  dinner-parties,  every  dance  of  all  the  balls,  from 
first  to  last,  and  come  up  smiling  at  the  end." 

"  Oh,  you're  made  of  mercury,"  Avis  laughed. 

Mrs.  Bolitho  continued  in  the  liveliest  fashion : 

"  And  when  I  was  in  Europe,  didn't  I  do  more 
than  any  New  Yorker? — Rome,  Paris,  Constanti- 
nople, the  Kremlin,  the  Waters  of  Hercules,  the 
Jungfrau.  And  for  two  months  of  a  London  sea- 
son I  never  flagged,  though  I  nearly  died  of  the 
stuffy  heat,  and  when  I  had  time  to  think  of  it, 
for  longing  for  a  breath  of  my  native  Bush.  There 
was  one  great  and  never-to-be-forgotten  day ;  you 
know  all  about  it,  I  know.  But  it  is  my  one  claim 
to  fame — my  record  day,  when  I  began  as  soon  as 
the  doors  opened  with  the  Royal  Academy.  I 


48  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

went  through  all  the  rooms  faithfully  with  the  cata- 
logue. When  I  got  to  the  sculpture,  I  was  seized 
with  a  sudden  rage  of  toothache,  and  rushed  round 
to  a  dentist  in  Savile  Row,  and  had  the  offending 
member  out.  I  remember  how  unwilling  the  man 
was;  I  remember  how  I  insisted.  It  was  Derby 
Day,  and  I  could  not  afford  to  spoil  my  first  Derby 
for  the  matter  of  a  molar.  Well,  it  was  out.  I 
tore  back  to  the  hotel,  and  put  on  a  brand-new 
frock.  I  can  see  it  now ;  it  was  of  cream-clouded 
muslin,  with  an  exquisite  fawn-coloured  sprig,  and 
a  bonnet  and  parasol  in  fawn-cream  to  match.  I 
met  the  two  Bolithos  at  Hatchard's — such  a  party 
of  us  ! — and  off  we  set  to  Epsom.  Lord  !  the  first- 
comer  we  tooled,  I  forgot  the  hole  in  my  jaw ;  the 
first  glass  of  champagne  and  I  could  have  given 
every  grinder  in  my  head  for  the  joy  of  it  all. 
Back  we  came,  and  dined  with  the  Budleigh  Boli- 
thos, and  went  to  Berlioz's  'Faust'  at  Covent 
Garden ;  and  at  midnight,  strung  up  to  the  wildest 
pitch  of  excitement,  unconscious  of  any  fatigue 
whatever,  I  went  off  to  the  Clancarries'  dance  with 
the  only  survivors  of  our  party  of  twenty — May 
Moneypenny  and  her  husband." 

"  When  I  hear  that  story,"  said  Avis,  "  I  feel 
bruised  from  tip  to  toe,  as  though  I  had  been  half 
an  hour  on  a  buck-jumper.  Tell  me  you  got  to  bed, 
and  calm  my  mind." 

"  I  did  get  to  bed  about  half-past  three — Spencer 
had  been  snoring  there  for  hours  ;  he  had  been 
dead  to  the  world  since  dinner — and  I  slept  like  a 
new-born  baby.  Ah !  those  were  good  days !  " 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  49 

Mrs.  Bolitho's  keen  brown  face  sparkled,  and  the 
little  stray  hairs  that  escaped  from  the  level  of  the 
rich  iron-grey  roll  that  semicircled  her  head  seemed 
to  curl  more  crisply  as  she  spoke.  When  interested 
or  amused,  she  seemed  for  the  moment  much  as 
she  had  ever  been  in  her  youngest  days,  a  little 
slim  brown  woman,  of  a  most  captivating  vivacity 
and  a  most  unwearying  wit. 

"  Well,"  said  Avis,  "  I  am  quite  twice  your  size, 
and  my  movements  are  proportionately  slower. 
An  elephant  cannot  fly  round  like  a  mouse." 

"  But  he  should  do  what  he  can.  Is  it  the  men 
of  Sydney  you  object  to  ?  " 

"  The  men  and  the  women  and  the  whole  business 
of  pleasure.  I  object,  and  I  do  not  object.  What 
is  called  society  does  not  amuse  me,  that  is  all. 
Really,  auntie,  by  this  time,  is  there  any  need  to 
say  this  again  ?  " 

"  My  dear,"  answered  Mrs.  Bolitho,  with  a  change 
to  seriousness,  "  you  should  not  let  one  injury  spoil 
your  whole  life." 

Avis  winced  as  though  she  had  been  struck  ;  her 
face  altered.  For  a  few  seconds  she  had  no  con- 
sciousness ;  then,  speaking  almost  at  random, 
"How  can  you  judge?"  she  asked.  "What  are 
you  judging  from  ?  "  And  she  added  hastily :  "  I 
admit  no  injury." 

Her  companion  continued  very  earnestly  : 

"  Do  you  know,  I  think  strength  shows  itself  chiefly 
in  power  of  recovery.  I  think  life  means  recovery." 

"  Nevertheless,  all  things  die,"  answered  Avis, 
with  returning  self-command. 


50  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

"  Yes,  as  they  lose  vitality,  recuperative  energy. 
My  dear,  there  should  be  no  weakness  about  you, 
except,  perhaps,  the  weakness  of  too  much  force. 
Oh,  my  dear,  when  I  look  at  you,  I  see  what  I  have 
always  longed  to  be — I,  a  little  black  runt  all  my 
days.  How  I  have  longed  at  night  when  I  went  to 
bed  that  I  might  wake  up  in  the  morning  and  find 
myself  big  and  fair  and  golden — splendid,  like  you 
are !  Why,  it's  pure  gold  that  you  have  in  your 
veins,  the  most  precious  and  ductile  of  metals,  yet 
you  are  daunted  at  the  outset." 

"  How  daunted  ?  "  Avis  interrupted.  "  Am  I  not 
happy  in  my  own  way  ?  Have  I  not  health  and 
many  interests,  and  new  pursuits  whenever  I  tire  of 
old  ones  ?  " 

Mrs.  Eolith  o  broke  in  with  an  expressive  wave  of 
her  hand : 

"  Yes,  yes ;  you  ride  and  read  and  spin  and  sew 
and  fiddle,  and  you  cling  to  the  Bush  and  make  a 
religion  of  your  love  for  it ;  but  you  are  not  first 
nor  last  a  rider  nor  a  reader,  nor  any  of  the  other 
things,  and  you  are  cramping  and  starving  your 
heart  deliberately." 

"  I  cannot  think  what  you  mean  by  talking  to  me 
like  this.  Starving,  when  I  have  you  and  Uncle 
Bolitho  and  the  children  to  care  for  I  Cramping, 
when  I  am  continually  learning  something  fresh  !  " 

"  Dear  child,  you  love  us  all,  I  know  it ;  and  as 
for  your  accomplishments,  soon  there  will  be  no 
end  to  them.  You  have  grown  by  the  width  of  a 
whole  temperament  since  you  came  to  us  eight 
years  ago.  All  the  more  reason  that  you  should 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  51 

not  shut  yourself  away  from  your  fellow-creatures 
and  the  world  they  live  in.  There  are  scholars, 
Avis,  and  there  are  saints,  and  there  are  stupids ; 
but  you  are  none  of  the  three.  You  cannot  do 
what  you  were  born  to  do  in  a  library,  nor  in  a 
convent,  nor  in  what  Elspeth  calls  a  *  hidie-hole.'  " 

"  I  am  only  an  ordinary  being,"  Avis  put  in  ;  but 
she  left  the  window  and  walked  restlessly  about 
the  room,  jerking  a  skein  of  silk  held  by  the  end  in 
either  hand. 

"  I  know  what  you  are.  I  have  been  studying 
human  nature  for  the  last  twenty  years,  ever  since 
this  lameness  put  a  stop  to  my  careering  about. 
Oh !  the  human  documents  that  have  been  offered 
for  my  reading  in  this  room  !  And  I  see  now,  look- 
ing back,  that  my  comment  upon  almost  all  of 
them  amounted  to  this,  'Forget  it,  and  go  on.' 
There  was  your  stepfather,  Eddy  Bengough:  he 
had  much  to  say  for  himself  at  one  time  ;  but  when 
he  came  here  with  your  mother  after  their  mar- 
riage, it  seemed  to  me  that  he  had  gone  on  to  his 
heart's  desire.  The  truth  is  this :  I  think  every  one 
ought  to  marry.  People  have  told  me,  people  at 
home  in  England,  that  it  is  because  I  am  of  a  new 
country,  where  life  is  comparatively  simple  and  re- 
duced to  its  elements." 

"  I  agree  with  them,"  said  Avis  shortly.  "  Rules 
are  made  for  the  rule,  for  the  rank  and  file,  not  for 
the  exception.  Civilization  develops  and  protects 
the  exception." 

"  Maybe ;  but  my  opinion  holds  good  for  an  over- 
whelming majority,  as  the  newspapers  say.  The 


52  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

mass  of  people  ought  to  marry.  Men  and  women 
were  made  for  each  other.  I  look  upon  an  unmar- 
ried person  as  an  unfinished  thing.  Not  that  I 
would  have  a  woman  go  man-hunting — not  for  all 
the  joys  of  the  most  joyous  marriage,  not  to  escape 
the  gloom  of  the  gloomiest  celibacy.  What  I  say 
is  this — in  the  style  of  that  lovely  proverb,  '  Don't 
'ee  marry  for  money,  but  go  where  money  is' — 
never  run  after  a  husband,  but  go  where  husbands 
are  to  be  met.  Now,  they  are  not,  Avis,  to  be 
found  here  in  this  particular  bit  of  Bush." 

"Prince  Charming  might  ride  this  way,"  said 
Avis  scornfully. 

"  He  is  more  likely  to  be  in  his  proper  place — at 
Court.  My  dear,  I  want  you  to  go  to  Court." 

"And  take  my  stand  in  the  anxious  ranks  of 
ladies  who  await  the  throwing  of  his  handkerchief. 
Gods  and  little  fishes ! " 

"  It  is  Prince  Charming  you  are  speaking  of.  He 
sues  on  bended  knee." 

"I  suppose  he  does  not  remain  there  perma- 
nently ?  And  then,  to  quote  your  beloved  Thack- 
eray, when  he  gets  up  he  goes  away.  I  will  quote 
my  beloved  Shakespeare,  and  prefer  to  endure  the 
ills  that  I  have,  rather  than  fly  to  others  that  I 
know  not  of.  And  while  I  am  on  the  quotation 
tack,  auntie,  there  is  an  excellent  saying  which  be- 
longed to  Hannah  at  Uncle  Tom's : 


" '  Was  well, 

Would  be  better, 
Took  medicine, 
And  died.' " 


HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE  53 

"  Score  to  you,  my  dear."  Mrs.  Bolitho  laughed. 
"  Why  have  I  never  heard  that  before  ?  But  no,  I 
will  not  be  put  off  with  epigrams.  I  am  quite  seri- 
ous. You  must  some  time  think  of  your  own  future. 
What  does  it  promise  ?  You  stand  here,  as  it  were, 
between  the  living  and  the  dead ;  between  the  two 
dear  children,  who  are  living  enough,  thank  Heaven ! 
and  Spencer  and  me,  who  are  each,  even  as  Job,  a 
dry  tree.  What  will  you  do  when  we  are  gone  ?  I 
am  sure  Caradon  and  Pheenie  would  be  glad  to 
have  you  here.  No  ?  I  know,  of  course,  you 
would  say  no.  Will  you  go  home  to  England  ? 
Will  you  take  up  a  selection,  or  try  a  small  place  of 
your  own  ?  Will  you  go  to  Sydney  ?  Well,  then, 
what  will  you  do  ?  " 

Avis  was  silent.     Mrs.  Bolitho  persisted. 

"  It's  not  even,  you  know,  as  though  you  were 
making  friends  for  yourself,  who  would  receive  you 
gladly  into  their  houses.  You  hold  yourself  aloof 
from  the  Railtons,  and  Paultons,  and  Snowes. 
They  pipe,  and  you  do  not  dance ;  they  smile,  and 
you  yawn ;  they  beckon,  and  you  do  not  come. 
There  is  no  offence  like  this.  If  you  were  poor  and 
mean-looking,  they  could  call  you  shy  or  jealous ; 
being  what  you  are,  they  call  you  haughty,  they 
fear  you  contemptuous,  and  they  dislike  you  ac- 
cordingly. An  aristocracy,  whether  of  birth  or  in- 
tellect, is  critical  and  captious,  and  appreciates  the 
stimulus  of  a  difference ;  a  democracy  resents  it. 
To  the  mass  of  mankind  the  unpardonable  sin  is  to 
be  different.  I  have  said  it  before,  and  you  must 
forgive  my  saying  it  again,  I  cannot  bear  the 


54:  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

thought  that  one  who  has  so  much  should  deliber- 
ately bring  upon  herself  a  future  in  which  she  may 
have  so  little." 

Avis  made  no  answer.  She  did  not  seem  to  hear 
her.  Her  face  was  very  pale,  and  her  lips  were  set 
till  the  wave  was  passed  out  of  them ;  her  eyes  were 
introspective.  Once  or  twice  she  stopped  in  her 
swinging  walk  through  the  room,  looked  into  the 
fire,  looked  through  the  window,  then  went  on 
again,  jerking  the  skein  of  silk,  as  though  she  were 
alone.  Her  companion  watched  her,  anxious  to  fol- 
low the  working  of  her  mind,  disturbed  by  the  dis- 
turbance her  words  had  brought  about. 

"Is  it  so  important?"  she  asked;  but  the  girl 
gave  her  no  heed,  and  at  length  she  took  her  stick, 
and  went  to  her,  laying  a  detaining  hand  gently  on 
the  strong  young  arm,  and  saying:  "My  child, 
you  have  two  mothers,  you  know,  for  I  have  no 
daughter,  and  you  must  let  me  speak  to  you  as 
though  you  were  really  my  own.  I  feel,  you  know, 
as  if  you  were,  for  the  dear  woman  you  belong  to 
is  so  far  away." 

Avis  answered  her  wildly : 

"You  don't  understand.  The  world  is  not  the 
same  to  me  as  to  other  girls." 

She  tried  to  pace  on  again  in  her  walk,  but  Mrs. 
Bolitho  held  her  with  a  touch  so  gentle  that  she 
stayed  for  it. 

"  Eight  years,  Avis — eight  years,"  she  urged. 

"  Or  eighteen  or  eighty  ! "  cried  Avis  scornfully. 

"But  a  death-wound  should  heal  with  you  in 
eight  years." 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  55 

"  Grant  it  healed — there  are  differences.  No, 
auntie,  you  are  wise  and  sweet ;  dear  auntie  ! "  She 
softened  suddenly,  and  rested  her  hands  on  the  little 
black  silk  shoulders  so  far  below  her  own,  and 
looked  affectionately  into  the  small  brown  face. 
"  Dear  auntie,  let  me  go  my  own  way.  I  am  con- 
tent here ;  I  can  breathe.  There  are  no  prying 
eyes  in  the  gum-trees,  and  no  jealousies  in  your 
house.  This  for  the  present,  and  for  the  future,  it 
must  take  care  of  itself.  When  the  sap  rises  in  me, 
and  I  want  to  go  forth  and  do  silly  things — spend 
mad  days  like  your  first  Derby  Day ;  start  across 
the  Continent  on  a  bicycle — Hajji  or  Pilgrim  shall 
gallop  it  out  of  me,  and  I  will  come  back  and  spin 
to  you.  Don't  shake  your  head.  After  all,  what  is 
your  alternative  ?  The  incessant  dressing,  the 
eternal  smiling,  the  insatiable  jealousies,  the  im- 
measurable weariness  of  living  among  a  lot  of  peo- 
ple who  don't  care  one  halfpenny  for  one,  whom 
one  never  wants  to  see  again." 

Mrs.  Bolitho  laughed. 

"  Oh,  you  can  talk,  my  dear — talk  so  well.  And 
only  I  to  hear  you  !  " 

There  was  a  sound  of  voices  outside.  With  a  fine 
gesture  of  mock  resignation,  Avis  pointed  through 
the  window  to  the  drive,  where  the  huge,  stooping 
figure  of  Mr.  Bolitho  walked  slowly  in  conversation 
with  Ralph  Hazell,  broad,  erect,  in  his  prime  of 
strength. 


CHAPTER  Y 

"  ME.  HAZELL  tells  me  he  comes  by  your  invita- 
tion, my  love,  but  I  tell  him  we  are  always  happy 
to  see  our  neighbours — most  happy,  I'm  sure.  Do 
you  drink  tea,  sir,  in  the  afternoon,  or  will  you  take 
somethin'  stronger  ?  " 

Mr.  Bolitho  brought  in  the  newcomer  to  his 
wife,  and  the  great  frame,  for  all  that  the  younger 
was  a  big  man,  stood  large  above  him,  aged  though 
it  was.  In  spite  of  the  cordiality  of  the  hostess, 
the  visitor  showed  a  shade  of  embarrassment  as  he 
seated  himself.  Miss  Fletcher,  standing  near  the 
fire,  had  so  contrived  that,  without  actual  rudeness, 
she  had  met  him  only  by  a  bow.  He  felt  that,  as 
much  as  she  was  concerned,  he  was  to  come  no 
farther,  and  with  a  little  inward  burst  of  blasphemy, 

he  asked  himself  "  Why  the  d had  he  come  at 

all  ?  "  yet  he  was  delighted  to  be  there.  The  room 
was  charming.  It  had  the  comfort  of  a  place 
meant  for  everyday  life,  and  a  grace  that  was  in- 
tended for  the  pleasure  of  guests.  A  warm  smell 
of  violets  was  in  the  air ;  there  were  good  water- 
colour  drawings  on  the  walls  ;  the  furniture,  for  the 
most  part  of  fine  French  walnut,  was  something  out 
of  the  common  in  design ;  the  old-fashioned  silver 
of  the  tea-service  was  radiant  with  careful  tend- 
ance. Hazell's  experience  of  station-houses  was  not 
so  large  that  he  could  know  how  far  this  in  taste 

56 


HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE  5T 

and  delicacy  was  above  the  greater  number  of  them. 
But  comparatively  with  his  own  unlovely  home  he 
felt  himself  in  a  palace. 

"  No,  I  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  my  way,"  he 
answered  to  a  question  from  Mrs.  Bolitho.  "  I  have 
a  general  sense  of  direction — it  is  quite  a  sixth 
sense,  you  know ;  I  have  found  it  very  useful  in 
many  circumstances.  Prowling  round  on  the 
chance  of  meeting  a  boar,  now,  for  instance,  in  the 
Himalayas,  in  an  uncommonly  dark  hour  before 
dawn,  several  of  us  would  have  been  permanently 
accounted  for,  if  it  had  not  been  for  my  instinct  of 
direction.  Have  you  ever  done  any  pig-sticking, 
Mr.  Bolitho  ?  " 

Hazell  was  nervous,  and  talked  rapidly. 

"  A  little  in  Queensland,  sir ;  my  experience  of 
countries  is  limited  to  England  and  Australia.  In 
my  days  a  West  Countryman  who  had  no  particular 
curiosity  as  to  foreign  ways  stayed  mostly  at  home." 

"  Indeed,  you  have  everything  in  the  West  Coun- 
try to  keep  you  there — mild  climate,  lovely  scenery, 
keen  sportsmen.  I  remember  a  first-rate  day  with 
the  Devon  and  Somerset " 

"  Do  you  indeed,  sir ! "  Mr.  Bolitho  broke  in 
heartily.  "  I  foresee  that  you  and  I  will  be  great 
friends  ;  many's  the  run  I  have  had  with  them,  and 
after  the  fox  with  the  Dartmoor  and  the  North 
Cornwall.  Lord !  who'd  think  it  now  ?  It  takes 
all  I  know  to  keep  me  on  an  old  quiet  horse  in  a 
great  stock-saddle  with  great  knee-pads ;  my  grip  is 
about  gone." 

"Don't  be  unreasonable,   Spencer!     You  have 


58  HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE 

gripped  enough  in  your  time.  In  his  wild  days, 
Mr.  Hazell,  before  I  had  him  under  my  wing,  my 
husband  was  a  noted  steeplechaser." 

"Have  I  come  among  centaurs  here?"  asked 
Hazell,  with  a  smile.  "  Miss  Fletcher  also  seems  to 
be  past  mistress  of  the  horse."  He  spoke  of  her 
that  he  might  openly  look  toward  her.  In  the  quiet 
colouring  of  the  room  her  hair  made  a  spot  of  splen- 
dour, as  the  sun  will  do  in  the  murk  of  a  London 
sky  in  winter.  He  noticed  that  it  grew  low  on  her 
forehead,  wavy  from  the  roots,  and  that  she  wore  it 
brushed  so  loosely  back  that  it  rippled  over  the  edge 
of  her  ear.  He  could  not  take  his  eyes  from  it. 
She  glanced  indifferently  and  made  no  comment. 
Mrs.  Bolitho  hastened  in  politely  asking  him  to 
name  his  favourite  sport. 

"  I  am  best  with  a  gun,"  Hazell  answered. 

"Eh?  what's  that  you  say — gun?  Then  you 
have  come  to  the  wrong  part  of  the  world,  I  fear, 
sir.  No  game  worth  the  name  here,  sir — poison  the 
rabbits  and  'possums,  and  pay  so  much  a  scalp  for 
kangaroos  and  wallabies,  and  all  the  rest  of  'em. 
Killed  anyhow.  No,  no  game  ;  but  Miss  Fletcher, 
now,  is  just  uncommon  clever  with  a  pistol ;  she  can 
give  most  people  fifty  in  a  hundred  and  beat  'em  in 
a  canter." 

"  I  hope  I  may  some  day  have  the  advantage  of 
being  beaten.  Miss  Fletcher  seems  to  do  every- 
thing well." 

"  Miss  Fletcher  is  a  restless  creature,  and  spends 
her  time  learning  new  things,"  answered  the  lady 
in  question  impatiently. 


HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE  59 

Hazell  took  her  hint  and  changed  the  talk  to 
himself. 

"  That's  what  I  am  trying  to  do  every  minute  of 
the  day  just  now — to  learn  new  things ;  I  own  I 
find  it  hard.  Your  Bush,  Mrs.  Bolitho,  is  a  strange 
language  to  me,  and  I  have  been  thinking  lately 
that  I  am  too  old  to  attack  it." 

"  My  husband,  having  spent  one  fortune  at  home, 
came  out  here  to  make  another,  when  he  was,  I  sup- 
pose, about  your  age,  Mr.  Hazell — but  few  things 
are  harder  to  guess  than  the  age  of  people  one 
meets.  I  have  long  ago  given  up  dogmatising  on 
the  subject.  Look  at  me !  I  dare  say  you  have 
actually  written  me  down  a  hundred !  Well,  I  as- 
sure you  I  am  a  mere  sixty-one,  a  warm-blooded, 
lightsome  sixty-one."  Mrs.  Bolitho  laughed,  sighed, 
and  laughed  again,  and  added  :  "  It  is  perhaps  the 
chief  good  of  advancing  years  that  one  can  say  ex- 
actly what  one  wants  to  say." 

"  I  never  knew  you  do  otherwise,  my  love,"  said 
Mr.  Bolitho,  catching  the  last  sentence.  "  I  gen- 
erally take  a  crawl  about  the  place,  sir,  for  an  hour 
or  so,  to  get  an  appetite  for  my  dinner ;  will  you 
accompany  me  ?  " 

Hazell  wondered  and  admired,  and  was  filled  al- 
ternately with  hope  and  despair  as  he  made  a  slow 
round  of  the  homestead  of  Wamagatta.  It  was  one 
of  the  largest  and  most  highly-beautiful  and  im- 
proved estates  in  the  colony.  For  a  mile  or  two  in 
all  directions  about  the  house  the  grass-land  had 
been  cleared  to  absolute  cleanness  and  smoothness, 
large  gum-trees,  chosen  for  their  size  and  kind,  being 


60  HEAETS  IMPOKTUNATE 

left  at  intervals,  so  that,  allowing  for  diiference  of 
herbage  and  colouring,  the  effect  was  somewhat  that 
of  an  English  park.  North  and  west  of  the  house 
a  thick,  long  double  row  of  pines  protected  ten 
acres  from  the  fierce  dry  winds  that  blow  from  the 
interior  of  the  continent,  and  these  acres  were  so 
arranged  by  Mr.  Bolitho's  wish  that  fruit  and  flow- 
ers, shrubs,  playgrounds,  and  vegetables,  were  close 
upon  and  among  each  other.  Great  mulberry-trees 
and  fig-trees  flourished  along  one  side  of  the  tennis- 
court  ;  the  trellised  vine-walks  on  the  other  side 
divided  it  from  the  rosary,  beyond  which  was  the 
orchard.  In  clear  view  from  the  drawing-room 
was  a  plantation  of  oleanders  and  wattle,  and  a  line 
of  laburnums  and  peach-trees,  the  latter  planted  en- 
tirely for  the  sake  of  their  bloom.  Near  the  veran- 
dah was  an  abundance  of  carnations,  violets,  mi- 
gnonette, and  other  hardy,  sweet-smelling  flowers, 
which  could  bear  the  severe  frosts  of  the  winter  and 
yet  be  kept  alive  by  careful  watering  during  the 
summer.  But  Hazell  knew  that  pleasure-grounds 
were  a  small  part  of  Australian  farming — compara- 
tively of  no  more  importance  than  the  icing  to  the 
cake.  A  permanent  water-supply  and  a  couple  of 
clever  Chinamen  were  really  all  that  was  needed  for 
them.  The  spacious  stone  dwelling-house,  the  ex- 
tent of  the  outbuildings  and  stables  and  steading 
generally,  added  to  his  recollection  of  such  of  the 
run  as  he  had  already  seen  in  his  coming,  its  clear- 
ness from  timber,  the  efficiency  of  its  fencing,  and, 
turning  to  his  host,  he  said  at  length,  with  a  smile : 
"  Like  the  Queen  of  Sheba,  I  have  no  more  spirit 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  61 

in  me.  It  is  my  hope  to  do  all  with  Burrabindar 
that  may  be  done  with  any  station  whatsoever ;  but 
when  I  think  of  it,  and  look  at  this — by  Jove !  " 

"  You  are  quite  right,  sir.  I  am  infernally  sorry 
for  you  with  Burrabindar.  Fact  is,  David  Snowe, 
who  had  it  before  you,  shockin'  drinkin'  man — 
whole  place  goin'  to  rack  and  ruin  for  the  last  ten 
years.  Nothin'  goin'  in — all  goin'  out.  Ten  years  ! 
Ay,  fully  that,  and  ten  years  in  the  Bush,  sir,  where 
we  deal  with  miles,  not  acres,  as  we  do  at  home, 
and  it  takes  us  all  we  know  to  keep  up  with  things 
— fences  and  suckers,  and  all  that.  Had  his  ex- 
cuses, though.  David  Snowe,  only  son,  fine  young 
fellow  as  ever  I  saw,  swept  away  crossing  a  creek 
flood-time — foolhardy.  Snowe  never  held  up  his 
head  afterward — except  to  drain  his  glass — ha, 
ha!" 

"  They  said  I  got  it  cheap,"  pursued  Hazell ;  "but 
when  I  think  of  the  thousands  that  ought  to  be 
spent  on  it,  I  am  disposed  to  call  it  dear." 

"  Don't  take  Wamagatta  as  a  standard,  or  you 
may  run  to  a  million.  "Why,  this  must  be  nearly  as 
old  as  I  am.  It  was  a  fine  place  when  I  came  out 
first  with  an  introduction  to  Major  Bullpet,  my 
wife's  father — his  place — my  wife  his  only  child." 

Hazell  bowed.  "  But  you  have  gone  on  improv- 
ing," he  said. 

"  Yes,  oh  yes,  certainly.  But  you  see,  sir,  I  had 
the  advantage  of  marryin'  not  only  a  very  charmin', 
but  a  very  clever  and  practical  woman.  Never  was 
very  clever  myself ;  very  little  good  at  Greek  and 
Latin ;  best  in  the  pigskin,  you  know.  But  Mrs. 


62  HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE 

Bolitho,  born  Australian,  born  Bush-woman,  she 
knew  and  she  understood,  and  she  loved  every  stick 
of  the  place.  Always  ridin'  over  it  from  her  child- 
hood with  her  father,  and  bein'  very  intelligent — 
those  were  the  days  to  make  the  money,  too.  By 
gum  !  I'll  say — we  don't  swear  these  times — by 
gum  !  the  money  came  in  then." 

"  As  it  will  never  do  again,  I  imagine." 

"  Never,  sir.  Wool  will  never  again  fetch  one 
and  sixpence  a  pound  unscored.  If  it  should,  you 
could  set  fountains  to  play  on  the  lawn  of  Burra- 
bindar,  and  build  yourself  courts  for  royal  tennis. 
You  will  like  to  see  the  stables,  of  course  ?  " 

They  were  of  brick,  and  could  have  held  twenty 
horses.  At  the  moment  seven  or  eight  were  stalled. 

"Two  of  these  are  Miss  Fletcher's,"  said  Mr. 
Bolitho ;  "  been  in  all  the  winter,  and  this  sort  of 
dry  spring  they  are  likely  to  stay  in.  She  likes  'em 
high  fed." 

"I  recognise  the  chestnut,"  said  Hazell,  as  a  big 
bright  animal  turned  a  full  and  lively  eye  upon  him 
from  the  rack.  He  saw  the  sunset  again,  and  the 
hatless  rider  with  her  golden  head.  "  Tall  horse — 
plenty  of  power." 

"  Blood  and  bone,  both,  sir ;  carry  a  man  sixteen 
stone ;  gave  twenty-five  pounds  for  her  three  years 
ago ;  takes  a  fence  like  a  bird." 

"  This  is  an  Arab."  Hazell  moved  to  the  next 
compartment. 

"  Cert'nly — can't  mistake  the  shoulders.  Missy 
has  a  craze  for  a  mount  with  brains.  Hajji  she 
calls  him  ;  says  he  knows  everythin' ;  says  Arabs 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  63 

know  twice  as  much  as  "Western-bred  horses. 
Would  make  a  first-class  polo  pony,  Hajji ;  but 
ladies  don't  play  polo — yet." 

"  I  remember  a  ladies'  match  in  India." 

"  You  surprise  me  !     Was  it  any  good  ?  " 

"  There  was  fine  riding,  but  rather  much  of  hum- 
bug, settling  this  and  that — hair  coming  down,  and 
so  forth.  Perhaps  the  ladies  felt  that  a  few  details 
of  the  kind  were  expected  of  them — as  ladies.  It 
struck  me  at  the  time,  I  remember,  that  if  they 
could  have  forgotten  they  were  ladies,  they  might 
have  played  polo." 

Mr.  Bolitho  had  no  mental  turn  for  hair-splitting. 

"  Lady  should  never  forget  herself,"  he  replied 
off-hand.  "Pretty  woman  never  looks  so  well, 
though,  as  on  horseback,  in  my  opinion.  That's 
Mustang,  my  old  hunter,  in  the  end  stall,  only  horse 
I  ever  mount  nowadays ;  paces  like  velvet,  steady 
as  time,  understands  me.  Good  boy,  Mustang, 
good  boy  !  The  stranger,  I  take  it,  is  your  own, 
Mr.  Hazell  ?  Fully  up  to  your  weight,  I  should 
say.  The  rest  are  the  drivin'  horses.  Gettin'  dark, 
isn't  it  ?  I  like  to  be  in  before  the  light  goes,  if 
you  don't  mind." 

As  they  neared  the  house,  they  were  met  by  de- 
lightful voices,  the  artless  noise  and  unmeasured 
laughter  of  children,  and  the  mixed  chiding  and 
cooing  of  an  attendant  adult. 

"  Oh,  Boyah !  Boyah  !  what  a  beautiful  Boyah ! 
Avis's  own  Boyah !  And  a  naughty,  wriggling 
Boyah,  too  !  Must  he  get  down,  then  ?  Yery  well, 
then,  Dot  shall  have  the  fairy  story  told  all  into 


64:  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

her  own  ear,  the  right  ear,  the  curly-wurly  ear. 
Boyah  mustn't  hear  a  word  of  it  because  he  can't 
keep  still." 

Delicious  tones,  sweet,  warm.  Hazell  paused  in 
the  verandah  to  hear  them,  and  his  hand  gripped  the 
railing,  for  it  was  the  hand  of  a  sore-hearted,  for- 
lorn man,  outside  all  the  exquisite  abounding  ten- 
derness of  the  life  of  his  kind. 

"  Rer-rer-rer-rer ! "  the  gay,  rude  exhibition  of 
extreme  youth  found  utterance. 

"  Aunty  Avis !  deah  Avis !  I  can't  hear  the  story 
if  Boyah  makes  such  a  noise." 

"  Rer-rer-rer-rer ! "  again,  and  a  roll  of  bangs  and 
thumps. 

"  No,  I  see,"  said  soft  reproof ;  "  Boyah  must 
spend  his  good-night  hour  with  the  pigs,  then  Dot 
will  be  able  to  enjoy  her  fairy  story.  There  was  a 
story  about  a  cobbold — a  cobbold  who  stole  the 
cheese  that  was  put  in  the  trap  for  the  mouse,  and 
brought  it  every  morning  to  the  poor  prisoner  in 
the  dungeon  who  had  no  food — no  food  at  all,  poor 
prisoner!  and  kept  him  alive.  Dot  can  hear  the 
story  to-morrow,  when  Boyah  will  be  with  the 
pigs,  hearing  nothing  but '  whomph.'  Never  mind, 
Dot  will  have  a  song : 

"  '  Song  of  a  merry  maid  weeping,  mum, 

Whose  eye  was  sad,  and  whose  mouth  was  glum ; 
Who  sipped  no  sup,  and  who  craved  no  crumb, 
For  she  wanted  a  tale  of  a  fairy.' " 

Hunting  Diana — fooling  like  a  mere  Dryad, 
voicing  the  sheer,  surging,  thoughtless  joy  of  being  ! 
The  two  men  looked  through  the  uncurtained  win- 


HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE  65 

dow  and  saw  in  the  firelight  the  three  at  play. 
Miss  Fletcher,  sitting  on  the  armchair,  was  swing- 
ing up  a  chubby  little  girl  out  of  the  reach  of  a 
chubbier,  smaller  boy,  whose  fatness  was  insecurely 
supported  on  broad  white  legs,  whose  upturned 
head  displayed  a  mat  of  yellow  hair. 

"  My  grandchildren — orphans,  I  am  sorry  to  say," 
Mr.  Bolitho  explained  hastily,  and  led  the  way  in 
upon  them. 

Miss  Fletcher  ceased  her  fooling  immediately, 
and  Dot  was  sent  to  find  Mrs.  Bolitho. 

"  She  has  an  antipathy  for  me,"  thought  Hazell, 
and  sat  silent  before  Diana,  making  dumb  advances 
of  the  hand  to  Boyah,  who  sang  on  "  Rer-rer !  "  and 
beat  upon  the  floor  with  the  handle  of  a  broken 
paper-knife,  and  gave  no  heed  to  the  silly  grown-up 
person,  who,  like  all  grown-up  persons,  laid  himself 
out  to  gain  attention  the  moment  he  appeared. 

"  Not  wanted,  of  course.  Oh,  the  old  days  twenty 
years  ago,  when  I  was  welcome  anywhere !  Very 
good.  I'll  go  back  to  my  sty  and  stay  there," 
thought  Hazell,  and  fixed  his  rejected  hand  in  his 
jacket-pocket.  Mrs.  Bolitho,  however,  flouted  the 
suggestion. 

"  What !  Let  a  stranger,  a  squatting  neighbour, 
moreover,  leave  us  at  this  hour  and  go  back  unfed 
to  his  own  place !  It  be  would  high  treason  to 
Australian  hospitality  !  One  can  see  you  are  a 
poor,  stiff-necked,  stuck-up  Englishman  !  You  will 
sleep  under  this  roof  to-night — isn't  that  so,  Spen- 
cer?" 

She  raised  her  voice. 


66  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

"  Most  cert'nly,  my  dear,  most  cert'nly,"  said  Mr. 
Bolitho  vaguely  from  the  dark  corner  of  the  sofa, 
where  he  sat  with  his  head  sunk  on  his  great  chest, 
dozing  again. 

Hazell  objected  with  a  smile  that  he  had  no 
change  of  clothes,  and  was  still  so  stuck-up  and 
stiff-necked  that  he  could  not  be  comfortable  during 
an  evening  in  ladies1  presence,  wearing  the  rough 
suiting  of  the  day. 

"  I  like  your  civilisation,"  cried  the  hostess ;  "  but 
I  can  satisfy  it.  Do  you  think  there  has  been  a 
household  of  men — of  hospitable  Australian  men, 
mind  you — for  the  last  half-century,  and  that  de- 
cent threadbare  black  male  garments  are  not  to  be 
found  in  it  ?  My  husband  will  not  offer  you  his, 
he  is  such  an  elephant ;  but  there  are  some  that  will 
fit  you.  Do  you  doubt  my  eye,  Mr.  Hazell  ?  You 
have  never  been  a  little  small  creature,  who  looked 
curiously  and  enviously  at  every  one  of  more  stature 
than  yourself.  I  can  tell  to  the  half  of  an  inch  how 
many  inches  you  boast  above  mine." 

A  tall  old  woman,  witch-like,  lean,  with  a  colour- 
less, wrinkled  face,  appeared  unceremoniously  at 
the  door,  and  cried  in  a  high  Scotch  tone  that  it 
was  time  and  mair  that  the  bairnies  cam'  awa'  to 
their  beds. 

"To  be  sure,  Elspeth.  Say  good-night — a  nice 
lady  and  gentleman  good-night,  Dot  and  Boyah, 
and  go  like  good  dears.  Mr.  Hazell,  you  needn't 
kiss  them  if  you  would  rather  not." 

"  I  am  afraid  they  would  rather  not  kiss  me,"  he 
replied,  with  unusual  intelligence. 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  67 

But  Dot  came  immediately  with  childish  coquetry 
and  hitched  herself  on  to  his  knee,  and  looked  at 
him  searchingly,  and  composed  her  wide  mouth 
into  the  form  proper  to  osculation. 

"  Rer-rer-rer — ra-a-ah  ! "  yelled  Boyah,  caught  up 
from  the  rug  and  borne  away,  naughty,  impolite, 
full  of  protest  at  the  exchange  from  warmth  and 
movement  and  impunity  to  the  ordeal  of  the  bath 
and  the  nothingness  and  silence  of  the  nightly 
sheets. 

"Your  whiskers  are  soft,"  was  the  unexpected 
declaration  of  Dot.  "  I  like  your  whiskers. 
Grandpa's  hurt  me." 

Elspeth  strode  across  and  swept  off  the  child, 
whose  hands  were  making  free  with  the  visitor's 
short  beard,  and  he  was  thankful  for  the  insuffi- 
ciency of  the  light,  which  could  not  betray  to  Miss 
Fletcher  his  ridiculous  youthful  blush.  She,  how- 
ever, did  not  look  at  him.  She  followed  the  chil- 
dren, and  Hazell's  pale-grey  eyes  followed  her  as 
she  did  so.  Mrs.  Bolitho  noted  them  both,  and  her 
spirits  mounted  within  her,  for  here  was  arising  (or, 
she  told  herself,  she  was  more  mistaken  than  she 
had  ever  been  in  her  life)  a  human  struggle  of  the 
most  interesting  sort,  in  which  her  generalship 
might  find  full  scope.  The  constraint  of  one  who 
was  evidently  a  man  of  the  world,  the  following 
glance,  the  rare  attraction  of  Avis  anywhere,  but 
particularly  here  in  the  lonely  Bush — had  Provi- 
dence perhaps  sent  this  man  in  answer  to  prayer, 
since  the  girl  would  not  go  to  Sydney  ? 

Mrs.  Bolitho  set  herself  to  study  him  in  the  quiet 


68  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

half-hour  before  the  dressing-bell.  They  talked  of 
many  things,  and  she  led  him  skilfully  in  many 
high-  and  by-ways,  that  he  might  betray  himself, 
write  himself  legibly  out  for  her  reading.  She  led 
him  with  a  clear  conscience.  She  dealt  with  men 
from  the  social  point  of  view,  in  which  they  are  the 
regiment  and  women  the  commanders.  She  had 
heard  it  argued  in  the  modern  scientific  fashion 
that  the  sexes  are  much  the  same,  that  what  is 
suitable  for  the  one  is  equally  so  for  the  other,  that 
in  like  conditions  they  will  behave  alike,  but  she 
scorned  the  hypothesis.  Men  were  men,  and 
women  were  women,  and  they  were  twain.  She 
had  loved  and  married  Spencer  Bolitho — with  a 
difference ;  she  had  ruled  him  through  forty  happy 
years — with  a  difference ;  and  she  believed  in  wak- 
ing all  other  men  to  whatever  end — with  a  dif- 
ference. 

Ralph  Hazell  answered  to  her  treatment  fairly 
well.  There  was  nothing  of  modern  scientific  in 
him.  He  yielded  up  to  his  hostess  the  personal 
detail  of  Rugby  schooling  and  subsequent  service 
of  the  Queen,  of  intimate  acquaintance  with  the 
home  counties  and  the  West  of  Ireland  and  the 
Bengal  Presidency,  and  of  London  from  the  stand- 
ing of  Kensington  Gore  and  the  Junior  United 
Service  Club.  He  acknowledged  a  strong  love  of 
sport,  combined  with  some  taste  for  letters  and 
general  information ;  he  wore  flannel  on  principle 
and  drank  ale  by  preference.  She  made  a  host  of 
inferences  that  were  surprisingly  true.  He  had 
never  known  the  want  of  money,  which  had  come 


HEAETS  IMPOKTUNATE  69 

to  him  through  commerce  of  a  high  kind,  probably 
no  further  back  than  his  father,  so  that  his  purchase 
of  a  great  stretch  of  wilderness  bespoke  perhaps  the 
land-hunger  of  the  Briton,  perhaps  she  knew  not 
what,  for  the  treatment  by  difference  failed  before 
a  mysterious  barrier  raised  steadily  by  one  who 
was  neither  a  child  nor  malleable.  His  hair,  alas  ! 
that  dark-brown  hair  which  Dot  had  found  so  silky, 
was  thinning  at  the  temples,  might  be  from  the 
ardours  of  Bengal,  might  be  from  the  wearing  of 
years,  might  be  from  the  something  which  lay  be- 
hind the  bar.  It  was  not  likely,  she  reasoned,  to 
be  disgrace  which  had  brought  him  so  far  from  the 
joys  of  pig-sticking  and  the  comforts  of  the  Junior 
United  Service  Club  ;  his  face  was  firm  and  proud, 
and  there  was  no  turning  away  in  his  eyes.  A  love 
affair,  then  ?  Oh !  masses  for  his  soul  and  the 
woman's  if  it  had  been  a  love  affair  gone  wrong, 
for  the  force  of  his  personality  was  immense — she 
felt  it  on  the  further  side  of  the  room,  she  told  her- 
self, as  if  it  were  a  thunderstorm.  Was  he  a 
widower,  and  was  that  the  brow  of  grief  ?  Mrs. 
Bolitho  was  intensely  interested ;  she  could  not  tell. 
"  Some  day,"  she  thought,  "  I  must  have  the  bar 
down,  and  if  I  am  swept  away — well,  I  am.  Mean- 
while, I  like  him." 

"  I  should  say  your  fowls  were  over-fed,"  she  ad- 
vised aloud,  for  he  had  begun  to  unfold  his  tale  of 
present  trouble.  "  Too  much  corn  is  a  mistake.  I 
don't  know  your  Mrs.  Brock,  but  I  expect  I  know 
her  sort.  It  is  astonishing  how  liberal  some  people 
like  to  be  with  other  people's  property." 


TO  HEAETS  IMPOETUNATE 

"  I've  noticed  that  before  now.  But  I  am  in 
difficulty  with  regard  to  all  these  new  things,  and 
Mrs.  Brock  knows  my  depth  of  ignorance ;  she  may 
resent  suggestion." 

"  Helpless,  unimaginative  man !  Quote  me.  Tell 
her  that  my  fowls  are  laying  as  if  it  were  the 
height  of  summer.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  their  con- 
duct is  nothing  to  boast  of ;  but  I  have  always  con- 
sidered that  Heaven  looks  upon  the  motive  of  a 
speech  far  more  than  upon  the  mode  of  it." 

"  What  casuistry  !  "  said  Hazell,  laughing. 

"  Good  word,  '  casuistry,'  "  replied  his  hostess. 

The  black  clothes  fitted  tolerably,  and  Hazell 
trusted  to  the  indifference  of  Diana's  brown  eyes 
not  to  see  that  the  bottom  button  of  the  waistcoat 
remained  undone ;  but,  indeed,  if  she  saw,  she  was 
welcome  to  see.  He  made  no  pretence  of  being 
young ;  he  drank  ale  by  preference.  He  had  fin- 
ished with  woman  forever,  and  this  was  a  kittle  red 
filly  as  ever  champed  upon  the  bit.  When  he  had 
thought  of  her  in  those  terms  he  apologised  sud- 
denly, commenting  upon  himself  that  he  had  degen- 
erated during  the  last  year  or  two,  that  once  on  a 
time  it  had  been  his  pride  that  his  inmost  thoughts 
of  a  gentlewoman  had  been  those  of  a  gentleman. 
He  looked  round  the  bedroom  when  his  dressing 
was  finished  ;  its  comfort  and  simplicity  touched 
him  to  a  feeling  of  homeliness  that  had  grown 
strange  to  him,  and  he  realised  how  he  had  missed 
it.  Home  is  like  health :  when  we  have  it  we  are 
unconscious  of  it,  and  we  know  its  value  by  its  loss. 
Some  young  man  had  slept  here,  he  thought — very 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  71 

likely  he  of  the  slimmer  waist  whose  clothes  he 
now  wore  ;  young  certainly,  for  the  picture  of  hon- 
our was  a  large  photograph  of  some  pretty  empty 
girl  of  the  diaphanous,  willowy  type,  so  dear  to 
muscular  ladhood  in  search  of  contrast ;  young,  for 
on  the  high  wooden  mantelpiece  lay  in  faded 
leather  case  two  big  expensive  meerschaum  pipes 
and  a  cigar-holder,  all  elaborate  in  design — one 
broken  and  carefully  mended  with  a  heavy  silver 
band.  Meerschaum  and  stage-loveliness,  thought 
Hazell  with  a  kindly  scorn.  Oh,  the  happy  phase 
when  such  things  are  desirable !  Was  the  fellow 
dead,  he  wondered,  or  only  gone  away  to  grow 
older  ?  The  dinner-bell  sounded. 

Mrs.  Bolitho  said  nothing  in  disparagement  when 
she  saw  that  Avis  had  chosen  her  favourite  and 
oldest  dress  of  what  she  called  the  "  family  evening 
order."  After  all,  nothing  could  spoil  her  shape 
and  stature,  nothing  could  dull  her  colouring ;  and 
this  old  trailing  robe  of  black  velvet,  with  large, 
loose  sleeves,  all  embroidered  with  golden  silk,  be- 
came her  admirably.  Hazell  gave  her  more  than 
apology  as  he  faced  her  at  table.  He  drew  a  long 
breath  as  their  eyes  met ;  then,  in  deference  to  her 
curious,  quick  glance  of  resentment,  he  bent  over 
his  soup  and  tried  to  talk  no  more. 

"  Something  I  said  about  Larry  Fagan  that  fun- 
eral day  annoyed  her,  I  suppose,"  he  thought ;  "  or 
else  it's  Dr.  Fell  again." 

The  courses  of  the  dinner  were  few  and  plain, 
but  good  enough  to  be  enjoyed  by  a  healthy  diner, 
and  the  wine  and  the  service  were  beyond  reproach. 


72  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

Mr.  Bolitho,  sitting  at  the  head  of  the  board,  with 
his  head  sunk  on  his  chest,  said  little ;  his  hour 
came  later  with  the  port — the  hour  for  an  old 
man's  monologue  of  anecdote.  He  left  the  custo- 
mary exchange  of  table-talk  to  his  wife,  and  Hazell 
met  her  more  than  half-way,  pricked  by  a  sudden 
vain-glorious  resolve  to  show  himself  a  man  of  the 
world,  not  to  be  despised  in  any  neighbourhood. 
Surely  it  was  insufferable  that  the  chance  of  a 
pleasant  evening  in  this  wild  land  should  be  spoilt 
for  him  by  the  hostility  of  unreason,  however  hand- 
some. He  refused  beer  ;  he  said  as  he  took  it  that 
he  thought  burgundy  the  best  all-round  wine. 

"My  son  Caradon  is  a  devoted  polo-player," 
Mrs.  Bolitho  told  him  presently.  "  The  team  meets 
quite  near  Beulah,  in  one  of  the  Wamagatta  pad- 
docks." 

"  I  have  given  up  polo.  I  don't  care  to  have 
pony  murder  on  my  conscience.  I  want  a  weight- 
carrier  nowadays." 

"  Most  remarkable  thing,"  said  Mr.  Bolitho,  wak- 
ing up,  "  how  long  I  was  able  not  only  to  ride  but 
to  race — only  steeplechases,  you  know — myself, 
considerin'  my  size.  I  was  always  uncommon  thin, 
never  an  ounce  of  fat  on  me.  That's  one  thing,  and 
the  rest  was  just  hands,  as  it  always  is  in  racin' — 
hands,  and  a  feelin'  for  the  horse ;  always  knew 
what  he  could  do.  Extraordinary  thing  the  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  that  have  been  thrown  away 
because  the  jockey  had  no  feelin'  for  the  horse ! " 

"Caradon  will  be  sorry  you  don't  ride.  He 
thinks  polo  every  man's  duty,"  said  Mrs.  Bolitho. 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  ?3 

"Was  that  his  room  where  I  dressed  this  even- 
ing?" 

The  bright  elderly  face  clouded. 

"  No,"  she  said — "  no.  My  eldest  son  is  married. 
There  is  plenty  of  room  for  him  and  her  and  theirs 
here,  but  I  fear  a  mixed  menage.  I  am  sorry  he  is 
not  here  to-night.  They  dine  with  us  once  a 
week." 

"  There  is  something  patriarchal,  it  seems  to  me, 
about  Bush  life,"  said  Hazell. 

"  Ah  !  the  wide  spaces,  the  close  family  intimacy, 
the  building  up  of  the  family,"  answered  his  hostess 
quickly. 

"  Yes  ;  and  I  always  think  it  a  good  life." 

"  High  thinking  and  plain  living — books  by  the 
cartload,  and  mutton  by  the  month.  Dear  auntie, 
the  best  of  life  is  good  anywhere,  but  I  am  afraid 
that  all  that  most  of  the  Bush  has  to  boast  of  is  the 
plainness  and  the  mutton,"  said  Miss  Fletcher. 

"  My  mutton  is  rather  bad,"  said  Hazell  to  her. 

"  Well,  it's  wool  you  have  come  for,  isn't  it  ?  " 
said  Mrs-  Bolitho,  laughing. 

"  I  admit  it.  Sometimes  I  think  a  little  long- 
ingly of  Highland,  or  Welsh,  or  Southdown." 

"  You  will  add  Tasmanian  to  that  when  you 
have  proved  it,"  said  Miss  Fletcher  briefly ;  and, 
compelling  Mrs.  Bolitho's  attention,  she  rose  and 
left  the  room. 

The  host  offered  cigars,  but  excused  himself,  say- 
ing that  he  enjoyed  his  wine. 

"  In  my  young  days,  sir,  and  in  the  country, 
smokin'  wasn't  so  fashionable  as  it  is  now.  I  like  a 


74  HEAETS  IMPOETUNATE 

cigar  very  well  now  and  then,  but  I  like  my  glass 
of  port  better  without  it.  You  smoke,  of  course  ?  " 

Hazell  allowed  it,  and  in  the  shelter  of  the  spicy 
cloud  he  spoke  from  his  curiosity. 

"  Your  niece,  I  take  it,  is  English,  Mr.  Bolitho  ?  " 

"  My  niece — eh,  what  ?    I  beg  your  pardon  ?  " 

"  Miss  Fletcher." 

"  Ay,  ay,  to  be  sure  ;  very  natural,  the  mistake. 
No  relation  whatever ;  just  her  kind  affectionate 
way  of  speakin'  of  Mrs.  Bolitho  and  myself. 
Mother  in  England ;  English  to  be  sure.  Married 
again ;  most  charmin'  and  very  superior  woman ; 
husband  great  friend  of  ours.  Miss  Fletcher's  been 
livin'  with  us  for  several  years — a  matter  of  seven 
or  eight,  I  believe." 

Hazell  bowed.  "  Striking-looking  woman,"  he 
murmured. 

"Eh!  what?  For  her  health,  I'm  told.  Most 
cert'nly  she's  been  very  well  since  she  came — thin 
slip  of  a  girl  when  she  came.  You  don't  drink, 
then?" 

"  I  smoke,  sir." 

"  Quite  so.  Things  change.  My  sons,  like  you, 
take  their  tobacco  and  their  coffee  or  their  whisky. 
Oblige  me  by  ringin'  that  bell  near  you  ;  your  coffee 
shall  be  brought  to  you." 

"  May  I  ask  how  many  sons  you  have  ?  " 

"I  had  three,  sir;  I  have,  unfortunately,  only 
two.  My  poor  son  Eichard  died  in  Queensland, 
where  he  was  managing  a  station — dysentery ;  his 
wife,  poor  thing,  followed  him  within  a  year ;  his 
children  you  have  seen.  But  for  them,  Mr.  Hazell, 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  75 

I  think  Mrs.  Bolitho  would  have  gone  too."  The 
brave  old  voice  faltered  very  little ;  the  wearing  of 
eighty  years  had  blunted  the  force  of  sorrow,  and 
the  jauntiness  of  bygone  fashion  would  ring  in  it 
to  the  end. 

After  a  decent  pause  Hazell  learnt  that  Eldred 
was  a  captain  of  artillery,  quartered  in  Jamaica. 
One  or  two  stories  followed  of  an  old  and  florid 
style,  and  suddenly  the  host  fell  asleep.  The  guest 
finished  his  coffee  and  his  cigar,  and  waited  awhile 
politely.  The  white  military  moustache  and 
whisker  remained  sunk  on  the  big  hollow  chest,  the 
heavy  breathing  told  of  depth  of  slumber. 

Hazell  thought  of  the  lady  of  the  house  and  her 
sparkle,  of  the  adopted  niece  and  her  glow,  and  he 
rose  softly  and  walked  on  tiptoe  through  the  open 
door  and  crept  along  the  passage,  guided  by  voices. 
The  drawing-room  was  open,  the  floor  was  firm  ; 
without  a  creak  he  gained  the  threshold  and  stood 
looking  in.  Mrs.  Bolitho  sat  by  a  small  table  on 
which,  between  her  and  himself,  was  a  lamp,  and 
she  read  aloud  from  a  newspaper.  Near  the  fire,  on 
a  high  oak  chair,  sat  Miss  Fletcher  spinning.  Her 
handsome  ivory  face  was  bowed,  thoughtful,  as 
though  her  mind  were  given  to  her  work  or  to  what 
she  heard ;  her  long  white  fingers  moved  deft  and 
steady  about  the  yarn,  and  flamelight  caught  the 
beading  on  her  shoe  as  it  played  quickly  on  the 
treadle.  The  wheel  passed  evenly,  murmurously. 
She  sat  in  perfect  and  most  satisfying  repose  of 
head  and  feature,  and  the  noble  width  and  curve  of 
her  classic  shoulders,  her  long  easeful  limbs,  the 


76  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

absolutely  rhythmic  motion  of  foot  and  hands, 
deepened  and  vivified  that  stillness. 

The  little  quaint  machine  screened  her,  separated 
her,  to  his  fancy,  from  all  the  other  world ;  the 
veil-like  revolution  of  the  wheel,  the  dreamy  whir 
of  it,  set  her  apart,  beautiful,  mysteriously  femi- 
nine. He  could  have  knelt  before  her  worshipping 
the  incomprehensible,  the  different ;  he  could  have 
knelt  for  years  !  But  she  looked  up,  as  though  his 
force  constrained  her,  and  saw  him  worshipping. 
He  came  forward  on  the  impulse  and  stood  before 
her. 

"You  make  the  fairest  scene  I  ever  saw,"  he 
said ;  and  though  he  tried  to  smile  conventionally, 
the  adoration  was  in  his  eyes. 

She  answered  only  by  an  involuntary  tremble  of 
the  steady  fingers  on  the  yarn,  but  for  the  moment 
there  was  peace  between  them,  a  mutual  peace  of 
honey  sweetness. 


CHAPTER  YI 

HAZELL  was  gone  soon  after  sunrise  the  follow- 
ing morning.  A  note  on  the  breakfast-table,  civil 
in  thanks  and  excuses,  pleaded  a  suddenly  remem- 
bered engagement  with  the  Beulah  stock  and  share 
agent.  Mrs.  Bolitho  was  disappointed — for  her 
own  sake  only — as  of  an  absorbing  game,  not  for 
Avis's  sake,  for  the  pair  had  agreed  admirably  dur- 
ing the  evening,  saying  little  to  each  other,  because 
Hazell  had  taken  a  hand  at  picquet  with  herself, 
and  played  respectably,  while  the  spinning-wheel 
had  known  no  intermission.  The  keen  sense  of  the 
elder  woman  had  felt  the  strong  currents  passing 
between  them ;  she  had  noted  the  involuntary 
straying  of  her  partner's  eyes,  and  she  had  exulted 
silently  that,  if  he  were  as  honest  as  he  seemed,  the 
tide  of  life  should  flow  so  fast.  For  his  disappear- 
ance, nothing  is  surprising  in  the  relation  of  man 
and  maid ;  he  might,  being  arrived  at  years  of  dis- 
cretion, have  taken  fright  at  his  own  advance  in 
emotion,  and  so  taken  flight,  or  the  appointment 
might  be  real.  Avis,  for  her  part,  seemed  to  have 
risen  with  a  satisfactory  reference,  though  of  avoid- 
ance, to  him.  She  was  dressed,  as  she  would  say, 
for  domesticity  ;  but  on  an  average  of  five  morn- 
ings in  the  week  she  would  appear  in  her  riding- 
skirt,  ready  for  the  exercise  of  which,  unlike  most 
of  those  who  live  in  the  Bush,  she  never  wearied. 

77 


78  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

It  was  as  though  she  had  considered  the  probabil- 
ity of  a  ride  with  Hazell,  and  had  mentally  de- 
clined it. 

"  I  never  saw  anything  healthier,"  thought  Mrs. 
Bolitho,  but  she  spoke  no  comment,  and  taking  for 
granted  the  excitement  which  each  had  felt  in  the 
other's  presence,  she,  with  a  quiet  mind,  left  them 
to  the  anti-climax  of  absence. 

Avis  withdrew  after  breakfast  to  her  own  quar- 
ters, two  rooms  at  the  end  of  the  long  low  house, 
which  was  built  round  three  sides  of  a  square.  Her 
parlour,  boudoir,  den,  as  she  named  it,  according  to 
the  moment's  point  of  view,  showed  as  strange  a 
medley  of  taste,  pursuit,  changing  fancy,  as  was 
ever  presented  by  a  lady  in  her  chosen  place. 
Reader,  spinster,  horsewoman,  embroiderer,  violin- 
ist were  evident.  On  the  writing-table,  which  of- 
fered so  little  free  space  that  evidently  not  much 
was  written  there,  stood  several  photographs  of  a 
grave,  noble-looking  woman — like  Avis,  yet  not  like 
her,  but  plainly  her  mother ;  a  stout,  elderly  man, 
kindly,  wearing  the  white  tie  of  old  fashion  in  Holy 
Orders,  appeared  more  than  once.  On  the  walls 
were  photographs  of  horses,  of  Italian  and  New 
Zealand  scenery,  and  a  couple  of  fair  water-colour 
sketches  representing  each  an  English  country 
house  of  the  beautiful  and  healthy  sort.  There 
was  nothing  tawdry,  nothing  shabby,  but  disorder 
reigned  unquestioned. 

Avis  took  her  violin  from  its  case ;  it  was  in  the 
Mazzini  style,  and  there  was  a  pleasing  doubt  that 
it  might  be  an  original.  She  tuned  it  carefully,  set 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  79 

a  sheet  of  music  on  the  tall  stand,  and  began  to 
play  a  study.  She  had  worked  steadily  at  fiddling 
since  she  began  it  four  years  before,  trying  to  make 
up  by  hard  practice  for  the  disadvantages  of  adult 
learning.  She  had  a  firm  sweep  with  the  bow,  and 
her  ear  was  excellent,  and  she  had  reached  the 
point  when  she  was  glad  to  play  for  her  own  sake ; 
but  it  seemed  this  morning  that  she  lacked  patience. 
A  few  bars  went  badly ;  she  repeated  them,  and 
they  were  worse;  she  passed  them,  and  a  string 
broke,  and  she  put  the  whole  thing  away  without 
any  tenderness  such  as  one  expects  from  a  violinist, 
and  sat  down  to  the  writing-table.  Pushing  things 
together,  pens  and  pencils,  skeins  of  silk,  envelopes, 
scissors,  she  cleared  a  space  for  a  blotting-pad  and 
rushed  upon  a  letter : 

"  WAMAGATTA,  K  S.  W., 

"  September  12. 
"  DEAREST  MAMMA, 

"  It  is  early  in  the  week  to  start  my  talk  with 
you,  but  I  meant  to  devote  this  morning  to  the 
fiddle,  and  somehow  the  fiddle  is  intractable,  and  I 
must  soothe  my  wounded  artisthood  by  the  most 
soothing  thing  I  know,  next  to  your  presence. 
You  will  be  here  in  the  winter,  but  this  is  only  the 
spring,  the  opening  spring !  so  you  are  a  long  way 
off.  Nothing  suits  me  so  well  as  a  gallop  in  the 
morning.  It  seems  to  give  me  mental  balance  for 
the  day,  and  Pilgrim  is  going  beautifully  just  now. 
She  knows  not  only  what  I  want,  but  what  I  am 
going  to  want.  It  was  the  greatest  success  naming 


80  HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE 

her  Pilgrim — people  always  call  her  him,  and  when 
I  am  particularly  insistent  with  my  she,  they  turn 
upon  me,  or  half  turn,  to  tell  me  that  a  pilgrim  is  a 
male,  and  then  they  are  not  sure,  because  they  seem 
to  have  heard  of  females  going  to  Lourdes  and  so 
forth,  and  I  see  it  in  their  faces.  Not  that  I  see 
many  strange  faces,  thank  goodness !  There  was 
one  here  yesterday,  that  man  Hazell  whom  I  men- 
tioned to  you  before.  Aunty  Bolitho  evidently 
likes  him  extremely ;  I  cannot  tell  if  I  do  or  not. 
He  is  fine-looking,  but  has  curious  light-grey  eyes 
— eyes  with  a  kind  of  white  light  in  them,  which 
seem  to  scrutinise  one  with  a  kind  of  cold  fierce- 
ness. I  should  guess  him  to  be  another  of  the 
countless  bird-of-prey  men,  though  he  has  the  man- 
ners of  a  gentleman,  and  Dot  took  a  fancy  to  him 
— a  good  sign,  I  always  think.  I  hear  vaguely  that 
he  has  been  a  soldier.  Could  Colonel  Bengough 
look  him  up  and  find  out  anything  about  him  ? 
Our  solitary  Army  List  is  not  to  be  found.  Kalph 
Hazell,  age  about  forty-five ;  has  served  in  India. 

"  I  must  have  up  Sadouski  from  Sydney  for  my 
violin,  and  put  in  fourteen  lessons  of  as  many  hours 
as  he  likes.  Mrs.  Bolitho  is  so  good  in  letting  me 
have  anybody  to  teach  me  anything.  They  enjoy 
it  too ;  it  is  a  capital  holiday  change  for  them,  and 
this  is  a  nice  house  to  stop  in.  Of  course  she  may 
refuse,  that  I  myself  may  be  driven  down  to  Syd- 
ney. She  was  begging  me  yesterday,  almost  with 
tears,  to  go  there  and  mix  in  general  society,  in- 
stead of  wasting  my  youth  and  spoiling  my  life 
here  in  the  empty  Bush." 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  81 

Avis  stopped,  and  looked  straight  before  her  out 
of  the  window.  The  park-like  land,  with  its  scant, 
whitened  herbage,  its  occasional  large,  colourless 
hills,  stretched  away  to  meet  the  sky.  In  the  dis- 
tance there  was  a  small  wooden  hut ;  a  neat  iron 
fence  crossed  the  foreground.  "  The  empty  Bush," 
she  repeated  aloud,  and  her  clear  brown  eyes  grew 
fixed  and  desolate.  She  dropped  her  pen,  and  got 
up  to  pace  the  room,  the  fingers  of  one  hand  play- 
ing with  her  watch-chain.  Her  face  was  as  pale  as 
ivory;  her  eyelids  showed  a  delicate  redness,  as 
though  she  had  not  slept  the  night  before ;  her  lips 
were  firm  set  in  a  vivid  line.  Words  crowded  be- 
hind them,  but  none  escaped ;  the  trouble,  of  what- 
ever nature,  was  locked  in  by  all  her  strength. 
Presently  she  sat  down,  and,  catching  up  the  pen, 
wrote  on  vehemently : 

"She  does  not  understand;  at  least,  I  never 
know  how  much  she  knows — not  all,  I  think.  No 
one  understands  but  you,  mamma ;  and  here  I  can- 
not bear  those  who  might  know  or  get  to  know. 
Remembrance  of  that  year  after  is  one  of  the  inde- 
structible things.  I  could  not  live  through  such 
another.  This  man  Hazell  may  know.  Darling, 
you  have  never  said  one  unkind  word,  never  even  a 
reproachful  word  to  me.  You  knew  there  was  no 
need  of  it." 

She  stopped  again,  and  drew  one  of  the  photo- 
graphs nearer,  and  looked  at  it  earnestly,  then 
went  on : 


82  HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE 

'"I  have  your  dear  face  by  me,  full  of  nobleness 
and  tenderness  and  wisdom.  I  think  you  must  be 
the  ideal  mother,  who  knows,  who  never  condemns, 
who  heals  and  shelters.  And  I  am  writing  what 
will  be  cruel  words  to  you ;  for  how  you  care  for 
me  !  Perhaps  I  will  not  say  them,  darling.  In  any 
case,  I  will  send  another  proper  letter  later,  when 
this  mood  is  over  and  the  mail  is  in,  and  I  have 
yours  to  answer.  Let  me  write  to  you  now  like 
this,  because  you  are  the  only  one  to  whom  I  can 
speak  so,  and  because,  though  I  do  not  often  do  it 
— why,  I  think  it  is  only  the  third  time  in  all  these 
years — the  memory  is  in  my  heart  continually ;  it 
dies  not,  is  not  quenched.  How  could  it  be  ?  Yet, 
honestly,  I  did  not  deserve  it — not  all  of  it.  Many 
girls  have  been  as  foolish,  as  headstrong,  as  self- 
centred  as  I  was.  They  have  longed  for  excite- 
ment and  adventure  ;  they  have  been  swirled  away 
on  the  torrent  of  youth,  just  as  I  was ;  but  retri- 
bution did  not  come  to  them  as  it  came  to  me. 
Honestly,  mother  dearest,  I  did  not  deserve  it ;  not 
all  of  it." 

She  hid  her  face  in  her  hands,  tearless,  shivering 
as  though  an  inward  force  shook  her.  Her  attitude, 
the  expression  of  her  whole  body,  was  that  of  deso- 
lation. The  splendid  lines  and  vigour  of  lines,  the 
richly-crowned  head  was  shadowed  with  despair. 
She  sat  silent  under  it,  motionless  except  for  the 
occasional  shiver,  as  at  some  unbearable  thought. 
A  travelling-clock  in  a  leather  case  ticked  on  the 
mantelpiece ;  a  fire  of  logs  gave  forth  a  little  stir  of 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  83 

sound.  Outside,  in  the  untempered  flood  of  sun- 
light, the  magpies  crooned  their  brief  harmonious 
chords. 

Sounds  broke  the  stillness.  Heavy,  clumsy  little 
feet  in  strong  boots  came  rapidly  along  the  passage, 
and  the  door  was  beaten  hastily.  "  Opy  !  opy ! 
opy  !  opy  ! "  the  hoarse  imperious  tones  of  Boyah 
explained  the  matter.  She  paid  no  attention.  The 
hammering  fists  grew  angrier.  "  Opy  !  opy  ! "  he 
cried  again.  She  raised  her  head.  "  Go  away  !  " 
she  said  harshly ;  but  he  bawled  on,  unaccustomed 
to  neglect,  making  so  much  din  that  she  sprang 
up  and  did  open  to  a  dirty  little  figure  in  a  muddy 
pinafore,  with  grimy  features  and  a  dusty  mat  of 
yellow  hair,  who  fell  forward  on  the  floor,  picked 
himself  up,  and  turned  upon  her  indignantly. 

"Go  away,  Boyah.  You  must  not  come  here 
unless  I  ask  you ;  and  it  is  your  sleeping  time,"  she 
said,  standing  forbidding  in  the  way. 

He  did  not  know  the  strange  stern  voice  and  the 
dreadful  countenance  where  he  had  expected  wel- 
come and  adoration.  He  looked  puzzled,  then 
frightened ;  then  his  pudgy  lineaments  puckered 
themselves  in  dismay,  and  with  a  whimper  he 
turned  to  trot  away.  Something  in  the  helpless 
chubby  hands  outspread,  something  of  piteousness 
in  a  child  repulsed,  smote  Avis  at  heart.  She 
darted  after  him,  caught  him  violently  up,  and  bore 
him  back  into  her  parlour.  He  burst  into  loud 
cries.  She  sat  him  on  her  knee  and  dried  his  eyes, 
and  smoothed  and  dusted  his  dress ;  then,  putting 
the  short  pudgy  arms  round  her  own  neck  and 


84  HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE 

pressing  her  face  to  his  and  rocking  herself  with 
him  to  and  fro,  she  said  to  him  passionately : 

"Boyah  must  forgive  Avis.  Avis  was  unhappy 
— oh,  so  unhappy !  She  had  forgotten  Boyah  in 
her  own  black  thoughts  ;  but  she  loves  him — loves 
him — loves  every  toe  of  him,  and  he  must  love  her 
— just  love  her  blindly,  always  the  same — always 
the  same,  Boyah — Boyah !  For  oh  !  no  one  in  the 
world,  I  think,  has  so  much  need  of  love  as  poor 
Avis!" 

And  the  child  was  good,  and  bore  with  her  with- 
out remonstrance,  though  her  tears  ran  down  his 
cheeks  and  fell  upon  his  pinafore,  for  the  strange 
woman  was  gone,  and  his  lifelong  friend  and  wor- 
shipper had  come  back  to  him. 


CHAPTER  YII 

HAZELL  found  himself  relegated  to  the  bedroom 
of  the  dead  son  for  purposes  of  sleep,  whereas  he 
had  never  felt  more  broadly  awake.  As  we  know, 
he  kept  late  hours  habitually;  but  the  compara- 
tively early  time  of  eleven  by  the  clock  did  not  ac- 
count for  the  fact  that  his  whole  consciousness  was 
surging  tumultuously,  and  he,  the  mysterious  in- 
tangible self  that  dwells  within  and  sits  apart,  was 
tossed  by  it  helplessly,  as  a  row-boat  on  a  chopping 
sea.  He  opened  the  window  and  began  to  smoke  a 
pipe ;  the  air  was  frosty,  the  sky  was  dark  and 
starry,  and  in  the  east  he  fancied  he  could  discern 
the  first  lightening  of  a  coming  moon. 

"  Confound  it  all !  "  he  cried  to  the  storm  of  his 
nerves,  "  I  might  be  five-and-twenty.  This  is  what 
comes  of  living  in  solitude.  For  the  last  six  months 
I  have  had  no  human  intercourse,  except  with  a 
lonely  pastoralist  or  so  like  myself,  and  a  quiet  little 
family  dinner  completely  upsets  me.  Most  ridicu- 
lous !  I  must  go  out  more  or  I  must  not  go  out  at 
all,  and  as  I  have  done  with  women,  it  had  better 
be  not  at  all.  I  shall  be  off  to  my  bachelor  camp 
the  first  thing  to-morrow  morning,  and  stay  there 
till  I  get  used  to  it.  One  can  get  used  to  anything." 

Hazell  was  no  psychologist.  He  could  enjoy,  he 
could  suffer,  he  could  rebel,  and  because  he  had 
strength  to  be  silent,  he  expected  of  himself  strength 


86  HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE 

enough  to  destroy.  But  destruction,  to  be  effectual, 
must  be  scientific,  not  emotional.  A  second  and  a 
third  pipe  were  smoked,  and  the  waning  half -moon 
rose  coldly  behind  the  gum-trees,  and  the  smaller 
stars  paled  out,  and  calm  reigned  all  around,  and 
still  his  soul  was  vexed  within  him.  The  spinning- 
wheel  whirred  softly  before  his  mind's  eye,  and 
Diana  of  the  golden  head  sat  separate  and  ab- 
sorbed behind  it,  and  without  word  or  look  she 
drew  his  inmost  being  toward  her  as  the  sirens 
drew  the  sailors. 

"  Good  God !  what's  it  all  about  ?  "  he  asked  him- 
self, desperate,  revolting.  "  What  do  I  want  ?  To 
marry  her  ?  "  He  smiled  grimly.  "  I  have  had 
enough  of  marriage,  I  think.  To  love  her,  or  for 
her  to  love  me  ?  But  these  are  the  passions  of  life 
with  which  I  have  finished.  And  she  a  stranger  of 
whom  I  know  nothing,  except  that  she  has  furious, 
irrational  opinions,  whom  I  guess  to  have  the  tem- 
per of  the  devil.  Am  I  always  all  my  life  to  be 
ensnared  by  physical  beauty,  and  stirred  to  ecstasy 
by  a  sheaf  of  splendid  hair  ?  I  take  my  own  point 
of  view  entirely;  there  is  hers.  Would  she  be 
likely,  with  her  wit  and  her  youth,  to  care  for  me, 
going  on  to  fogeydom  ?  And  if  she  did,  would  it 
be  fair  ?  What  have  I  to  give  her  in  return  for  so 
much — I,  a  beaten  and  battered  man,  who  has  come 
off  worst  in  the  duel  of  the  sexes  ?  As  if  she  would 
not  naturally  choose  some  shaveling — some  fellow, 
at  any  rate,  who  wasn't  going  bald,  who  could  get 
his  waistcoat-button  fastened.  What  do  I  want, 
then  ?  What  is  it  all  about  ?  Well,  I  want  peace 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  87 

in  which  to  do  some  decent  and  manly  work  before 
I  die.  I  think  that  is  practically  all  I  want." 

But  the  turbulence  within  continued,  vague,  vio- 
lent— that  imperious  troubling  of  the  waters  of  soul 
and  body  which  conies  with  the  birth  of  love.  For 
the  world  must  go  on — it  lives  but  to  go  on.  And 
the  flood-tides  of  soul  and  body  fret  and  swell  and 
sink  against  the  walls  of  circumstance  and  conven- 
tion, as  we  have  watched  the  line  of  a  rough  sea 
against  a  solid  pier.  After  some  hours  of  sleep 
Hazell  was  his  own  again,  but  the  recollection,  and 
indeed  the  weariness  remaining,  determined  him  to 
flee  temptation.  He  scribbled  a  note  of  apology, 
went  out  softly,  saddled  his  horse,  and  started,  he 
was  not  sure  whither.  His  excuse  had  not  been 
quite  sincere.  True  he  had  written  to  ask  the  stock 
and  station  agent  to  come  to  Burrabindar  that 
morning,  but  there  had  been  no  answer.  There 
was  no  pressing  call  for  him  at  home,  only  the  long 
call  of  a  great  neglected  stretch  of  land  for  all  his 
energies  for  years.  He  rode  slowly  on  the  main 
road  of  Wamagatta,  fixing  his  attention  on  the  ex- 
cellent detail  of  all  he  saw  everywhere  round  him, 
and  once  again  his  spirit  died  in  him.  "  Put  it  up 
for  sale  and  go  free,"  temptation  whispered.  "  Put 
a  bullet  through  your  brains  in  a  quiet  spot  and 
hope  for  a  fresh  start."  "  No,  I  will  not  die  for  her 
worthless  sake.  She  shall  never  have  that  satisfac- 
tion. I  will  live  and  prosper,  and  she  shall  know 
it." 

When  he  reached  the  parting  of  the  ways  he 
turned  his  horse  toward  Beulah,  and  the  sunlight 


88  HEAETS  IMPOKTIINATE 

was  yet  cool  upon  the  earth  as  he  gained  the  High 
Street  of  the  township.  It  had  begun  to  call  itself 
a  town,  for  its  population  was  increasing  rapidly, 
and  it  boasted  several  buildings  in  brick  and  stone ; 
there  was,  moreover,  a  second  street,  and  Mr.  Bo- 
litho  had  lately  endowed  this  municipality  with  a 
small  park  well  planted  with  young  trees,  sprinkled 
with  seats  and  noble  with  a  drinking-fountain. 
Mostly,  of  course,  the  houses  were  of  wood,  roofed 
in  grey  corrugated  iron,  and  their  verandah  roofs 
coloured  in  red  and  white  stripes,  which  is  so  char- 
acteristic of  Australia.  The  chief  store  was  kept 
by  Proudfoot,  grim  father  of  dead  Emily.  It  con- 
sisted of  a  long  barn-like  structure  in  clay,  what  in 
other  countries  would  be  called  adobe ;  its  princi- 
pal windows,  making  no  more  display  than  of  a 
few  sacks  of  grain  and  some  harness,  looked  to  the 
street;  but  "Alexander  Proudfoot,  General  Mer- 
chant and  Importer,"  painted  above,  invited  cus- 
tomers to  enter  and  ask  indefinitely.  Hazell 
glanced  doubtfully  at  the  Exchange  Hotel,  before 
which  stood  a  waggon  and  team,  the  drivers  squat- 
ting on  their  heels  smoking.  He  glanced  at  the 
post-office,  and  debated  whether  he  should  enter 
there  for  letters  which  might  be  awaiting  the  course 
of  the  post.  He  thought  also  of  stopping  at  the 
bank  on  the  chance  of  a  talk  with  the  manager,  and 
finally  he  dismounted  and  hitched  the  reins  to  the 
pillar  before  Proudfoot's  door,  where  he  would  find 
a  man  in  disgrace  who  had  known  sorrow.  Long- 
lipped,  iron-faced,  with  grey  hair  brushed  straight 
back  from  his  forehead  and  touching  his  collar  at 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  89 

the  back,  the  general  merchant  stood  at  his  desk 
busy  with  books.  He  looked  up  as  the  squatter 
entered. 

"  I  saw  in  the  paper  lately  that  you  were  ad- 
vertising new  saddles  from  England.  I  want  a 
saddle  to  try.  I  am  not  quite  satisfied  with  those  I 
have,"  said  Hazell. 

"  Oh  ay,  ye  can  see  them,"  was  the  answer,  in 
broad  Lowland  Scotch,  and  the  iron-faced  one  left 
the  desk. 

They  inspected  the  stock  together,  and  a  choice 
was  made. 

"  Burrabindar  ?  Oh  ay,"  said  the  Scotchman,  as 
though  the  matter  was  closed,  but  Hazell  was  not 
going  to  be  got  rid  of  so  easily. 

"  If  you  know  as  much  about  all  the  rest  of  your 
business  as  you  know  about  pigskin,  I  am  not  sur- 
prised that  report  calls  you  a  rich  man,"  he  said 
courteously. 

"  I  luik  to  a'  things  mysel'.  It's  the  best  way," 
was  the  answer,  and  though  the  tone  was  dry, 
there  was  acknowledgment  within  it. 

"  Do  you  understand  the  weather,  after  all  your 
years  here  ?  "  inquired  the  customer.  "  Have  you 
any  hopes  of  rain  ?  " 

"  Muster  Hazell,  I  leave  the  weather  to  the  Lord, 
whose  it  is,"  was  the  answer.  "  I  hae  seen  nae  guid 
come  o'  latter-day  propheseein',  and  indeed  it's  well 
so.  If  the  puir  folk  who  hae  come  to  this  country 
could  ha'  foreseen  a'  they  would  have  to  bear  from 
drooght  and  flood,  and  the  hoping  and  fearing  and 
ruin  after  a',  the  maist  o'  them  would  hae  left  it 


90  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

and  gone  elsewhere.  That  is  my  opeenion.  But 
it's  an  ill  season  for  you  to  arrive,  a  stranger." 

"  I  hope  for  something  kinder  than  ruin,  any- 
how," said  Hazell. 

"  Oh  ay.  We  must  all  hope.  It's  juist  the  breath 
of  life,"  said  the  elder  man. 

Looking  at  him  sharply,  the  younger  wondered 
what  he  hoped  for. 

"  I  dare  say,"  he  said,  speaking  aloud  to  his  own 
thoughts,  "  if  one  could  trace  it  far  enough,  one 
would  find  that  when  we  cease  to  hope  we  come  to 
an  end." 

Proudfoot  made  no  direct  reply.  He  inquired 
leisurely :  "  Wull  ye  tak'  a  drenk  ?  I've  some  grand 
whisky  yon." 

"Thank  you;  I  never  drink  in  the  morning. 
Besides,  to-day  it  happens  that  I've  had  no  break- 
fast." 

"  That's  ill,"  said  the  storekeeper,  with  greater 
warmth ;  "  a  man  should  tak'  his  breakfast." 

"  I  made  an  early  start.  I  think  of  calling  in  at 
the  Exchange  Hotel." 

Proudfoot  hesitated.  "  It  juist  happens  the  day 
that  there's  a  kirk  in  a  mull  at  the  Excheenge,"  he 
said ;  "  the  proprietor,  Meister  Dale,  has  been  taken 
wi'  a  fut,  I  am  informed.  They'll  no  do  ye  verra 
well  there  the  day.  'Tis  a  peety,  now,  and  ye  a 
stranger,  I  think." 

"  I'll  go  home,  then,  and  eat  the  better  lunch," 
said  Hazell.  "  I'm  not  fastidious."  He  raised  his 
whip  in  salute  and  moved  away. 

Proudfoot  hesitated  again.     "  Gin  ye're  no  fastee- 


IIEAETS  IMPOKTUNATE  91 

dious,"  he  said,  always  in  the  same  deep,  dry  tones, 
"I  hae  a  fine  ham  in  cut,  and  they'll  sairve  ye 
within  in  a  meenity.  It's  ill  to  begin  the  day  with- 
out food." 

{'You're  very  kind,"  replied  Hazell,  shaking  his 
head,  and  moved  on  out,  as  though  there  were  no 
more  to  be  said  in  the  matter  ;  and  then  he  thought 
of  the  cheerless  instalment  at  Burrabindar,  and  sud- 
denly turned  back  into  the  store.  "  Thank  you ;  I 
accept,"  he  said  impulsively. 

Proudfoot  led  the  way  through  the  long  shop,  and 
by  a  covered  wooden  passage  at  the  back  into  his 
own  house.  He  showed  his  guest  into  a  sitting- 
room,  furnished  with  mahogany  and  horsehair,  with 
a  bookcase  full  of  grave  volumes,  and  a  rack  of  long 
clay  pipes. 

"  Be  pleased  to  tak'  a  seat,"  he  said  solemnly. 
u  Jessie'll  no  be  long,  and  if  there's  anything  ye 
require,  ye'll  say  the  worrd  to  hairr,  for  I  maun 
back  to  ma  wairrk." 

Hazell  waited  for  his  breakfast  in  a  mood  of  much 
amazement.  Why  in  the  world  had  he  chosen  to 
accept  hospitality  from  the  man  who  supplied  him 
with  harness  and  poultry-feed — a  man,  further, 
whom  he  had  never  to  his  knowledge  seen  till  that 
morning  ?  He  laughed  at  himself,  pelted  himself 
with  scorn,  and  was  much  minded  to  escape  forth- 
with to  the  Exchange,  and  brave  the  discomforts 
of  the  "  kirk  in  the  mill."  Meantime,  he  read  the 
names  of  the  books  in  the  case.  "Encyclopaedia 
Britannica,"  Kobertson's  "  Church  History,"  Scott, 
Carlyle,  and  such-like ;  glanced  at  the  immense  pile 


92  HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE 

of  Weekly  Scotsmans,  and  found  it  easy  to  under- 
stand that  the  daughter  of  so  serious  a  household,  a 
daughter  with  the  artistic  temper,  should  escape 
from  it,  even  to  the  boundary-rider's  hut.  By  and 
by  he  was  supplied  with  a  repast  of  excellent  in- 
gredients— ham,  oatcake,  tea,  marmalade,  and  so 
forth,  which  he  consumed  unsparingly.  As  he  rose 
from  the  table,  and  sought  in  his  pocket  for  a  cigar, 
the  merchant  returned. 

"  Upon  my  word,  I  do  not  know  how  to  thank 
you ! "  said  Hazell,  warmed  and  fed  and  cheered. 
"  But  I  have  proved  before  this  the  generosity  of 
your  countrymen." 

"  We  wait  till  we  hae't  to  be  generous  wi',  that's 
a',"  replied  the  old  man ;  "  and  't  wad  ha'  been  a 
peety  for  ye  to  hae  gone  to  the  Excheenge  Hotel 
the  day." 

"  Were  you  ever  at  Burrabindar  ?  " 

"  Na,  I  was  niver  there." 

"  If  you  ever  feel  like  a  twelve-mile  ride " 

"  Ma  wairrk  keeps  me  a'  the  week,  Meister  Ha- 
zell, I  thank  ye ;  and  on  the  Lorrd's  day  I  rest  and 
am  thankful." 

"  If  you  know  as  much  about  everything  as  you 
do  about  ham  and  saddles  and  marmalade,  I  should 
be  glad  of  your  advice  on  many  points,  I  fancy.  I 
am,  unfortunately,  so  much  of  a  beginner  as  to  be 
at  the  mercy  of  the  first  comer.  There's  a  tramp- 
fellow,  for  instance,  living  at  my  expense  this  very 
minute  because  his  hands,  he  says,  are  all  sore  with 
Bathurst  burrs.  What  do  I  know  about  Bathurst 
burrs?" 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  93 

Hazell  was  lingering  for  the  sake  of  talking. 
Always  the  same.  Ccelum  non  animum  mutavit — 
had  it  not  been  a  joke  that  he  would  rather  walk 
with  a  drummer-boy  than  alone  ? 

"  Bathurst  burrs  !  I  know  them  fine,  but  I  niver 
heard  o'  their  incapacitating  a  man  f  rae  his  wairrk. 
A  tramp,  you  say  ?  " 

"A  tramp;  arrived  with  sore  hands,  begging 
work,  then  begging  off  work,  and  showing  his 
wretched  paws  as  reason  why  I  should  keep  him  for 
nothing." 

"  Oh  ay,  they're  artful,  and  the  maist  pairrt  will 
do  anything  but  wairrk.  I  have  heard  many  ill 
things  of  Bathurst  burrs,  which  are  one  of  the 
Lord's  plagues  in  New  South  Wales,  but  I  niver 
heard  o'  their  depriving  a  man  o'  the  use  o'  his 
hands." 

"  I  think,"  said  Hazell,  "  I'll  send  him  off.  And 
now  I'll  make  for  home." 

They  went  to  the  house-door  together.  The 
squatter  looked  at  the  brazen  horizon,  and  sighed : 

"  I've  only  been  a  few  months  in  the  colony,  but 
I'm  fairly  sick  of  waiting  for  the  rain." 

"  There's  always  hope,"  said  the  storekeeper. 

"  Always,  eh  ?  "  said  Hazell,  with  a  queer  twinge 
of  weakness  and  yearning. 

"  Always,  Meister  Hazell,  for  the  hearrt  as  well  as 
for  the  hairrvest." 

The  squatter  held  out  his  hand,  and  they  parted. 
As  he  rode  he  wondered  at  the  dissonance  between 
the  aspect  and  the  act  of  the  general  importer  to 
the  Beulah  district.  Was  it  possible  that  benev- 


94  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

olence  and  loving-kindness  flourished  in  so  horny  a 
case  ?  And  whence  the  reputed  hundred  thousand 
pounds  of  sterling  worth,  if  free  breakfasts  were 
offered  to  customers  ?  Would  he,  perhaps,  clear  the 
cost  of  his  ham  and  marmalade  through  the  next 
gallon  of  whisky  ?  Somehow  Hazell  thought  not ; 
rather  that  the  old  purveyor  had  liked  him.  Why, 
must  be  for  ever  unknown,  for  he  would  never  guess 
that  the  breakfast  and  the  friendly  words  had  been 
given  in  tenderness  to  the  man  who  carelessly,  cu- 
riously, courteously,  attended  the  funeral  of  the  er- 
rant daughter.  No  human  creature,  unless  he  had 
been  another  Lowland  Scot  in  like  circumstances, 
could  have  understood  his  feeling  toward  his  only 
and  beloved  child,  lost,  dead,  unrepentant,  unfor- 
given.  In  all  the  district,  for  the  moment,  there 
was  not  one  who  did  not  condemn  him  as  an  un- 
natural father.  A  neutral  newcomer  was  welcome 
in  the  circumstance,  and  when  he  showed  to  the 
sharpened  sense  of  the  sore-hearted  something  of 
dejection  and  discouragement  of  his  own,  when, 
moreover,  he  had  stood  bareheaded  at  the  girl's 
grave — that  grave  in  his  soil — Proudfoot  would 
have  given  him  greater  things  than  a  breakfast. 

Riding  briskly,  Hazell  overtook  the  stock  and 
station  agent  on  his  way  to  Burrabindar,  and  in  the 
course  of  talk,  recurring  in  his  pertinacious  way  to 
the  subject  of  the  burrs  and  the  loafer,  he  met  with 
the  same  incredulity. 

"  Might  be,"  said  Tunliffe,  "  but  I  never  heard  of 
it,  not  in  these  parts.  Large  country,  New  South 
Wales — larger  than  France,  they  say;  plenty  of 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  95 

room  for  different  things  to  happen,  but  I  take  that 
kind  of  excuse  with  a  grain  of  salt  myself." 

Rennard  was  found  idling,  as  usual.  The  inevi- 
table pipe  was  in  his  thin,  shifty  mouth,  and  he  spat 
and  conversed  fluently  as  he  watched  Soy  Ching 
among  the  vegetable  beds.  The  Chinaman  worked 
ceaselessly,  his  lean,  supple  body  bending  and 
swerving  at  need ;  the  pipe,  not  in  his  mouth,  but 
stuck  in  the  back  of  his  leather  waist-belt  at  his 
spine,  ready  for  the  dinner-hour. 

"  Put  us  to  shame,  they  do,  these  yeller  fellers," 
said  the  stock  and  station  agent.  "  Don't  know 
what  the  country'd  do  without  'em ;  we'd  either  not 
have  a  green  thing  to  eat,  or  else  have  to  pay  six- 
pence a  bite  for  it.  I'd  not  say  it  to  every  one,  Mr. 
Hazell,  but  you've  been  in  nigger-lands,  they  tell  me 
— I'd  work  the  whole  of  New  South  Wales  with 
coloured  labour  if  I'd  my  way." 

"Don't  stand  for  the  Legislative  Assembly,  if 
that  is  your  opinion,"  returned  Hazell,  with  a  laugh, 
and  proceeded  to  interview  Rennard. 

The  man  could  give  no  good  account  of  himself. 

"Burrs  it  was,  and  Gawd's  trewth,"  he  said. 
"Why  'is  pore  'ands  was  not  no  better  yet  was 
more  than  he  knew.  It  was  labour  he  wanted — 
honest  labour,  and  to  which  he  had  been  born,  and 
any  one  who  knew  Luke  Rennard  could  swear  to  it 
that  he  didn't  shirk " 

"  You  must  go  and  see  a  doctor,"  Hazell  told  him. 
"  I'll  give  you  a  letter,  if  you  like,  to  Mr.  Middle- 
mass  in  Beulah  ;  and,  meantime,  off  you  go,  and 
make  room  for  a  pair  of  hands  that  are  of  some  use." 


96  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

The  tramp  showed  his  teeth,  and  a  sinister  light 
came  into  his  ferret-eyes. 

"  I  can  speak  for  myself  to  a  doctor,  or  any  one 
else  when  I  choose,"  he  replied  insolently,  "  and  I 
don't  want  none  o'  Miss  Fletcher's  dodges  played 
on  me.  I  knows  where  yer  been  this  last  twenty- 
four  hours,  Mr.  Hazell,  and  I  can  see  it'll  suit  her 
well  enough  to  get  me  out  o'  the  district,  but  I 
ain't  so  easy  got  rid  of,  and  I've  a  tongue  in  my 
'ead,  I  'ave,  as  I  kin  use,  if  my  pore  'ands  do  fail 
me.  /  knows  all  about  'er,  and  'er  father  as  turned 
her  out  o'  doors  becos  she  wasn't  fit  to  stay  in  no 
clergyman's  'ouse " 

The  Chinaman  worked  on  unheeding.  Tunliffe, 
the  agent,  stood  in  amazement,  and  Hazell,  white 
with  anger,  sprang  upon  the  mean  creature  who 
spat  this  extraordinary  venom,  and  cut  him  heavily 
across  the  back  and  shoulders  with  his  riding-whip. 

"Get  off  my  land,  you  hound!"  he  ordered 
fiercely.  "  Let  me  catch  you  here  again,  and  I'll 
horsewhip  you  first,  and  summon  you  for  defama- 
tion afterward.  Tunliffe,  you  are  a  witness." 

Rennard  yelled  with  pain,  and  as  the  squatter  re- 
leased him,  he  fell  in  an  abject  heap  upon  the 
ground,  chattering  like  a  monkey. 

"  Get  up  and  go ! "  thundered  Hazell,  standing 
over  him,  his  nostrils  wide,  and  his  pale  eyes  black 
with  the  dilatation  of  their  pupils.  "  Get  up  and 
go!" 

Rennard,  chattering,  eyed  the  whip,  and  shrank 
closer  together  upon  the  ground.  Hazell  moved 
away,  and  lowered  the  threatening  weapon.  The 


HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE  97 

tramp  leapt  beyond  his  arm's  reach,  and  stood  still 
eyeing  him. 

"  And,  mind  you,  you  go  a  marked  man !  "  cried 
the  squatter,  in  tremendous  tones.  "  Every  police- 
inspector  for  fifty  miles  round  shall  hear  of  you  ! " 

At  the  word,  Rennard  turned  and  fled,  running 
low,  with  bounds  and  jumps,  like  a  terrified  animal, 
and  was  lost  to  sight  among  the  trees  of  the  pad- 
dock. The  Chinaman,  sitting  unconcernedly  by  the 
trenches,  was  busy  clearing  away  small  leaves  and 
suckers  of  celery.  If  he  had  noticed  at  all  what 
was  taking  place,  he  had  already  ceased  from  any 
interest  in  it.  The  agent's  amazement  was  too  great 
for  speech;  he  gazed  round-eyed,  alarmed  at  the 
passion  of  the  big  man  beside  him,  and  Hazell,  see- 
ing this,  drew  a  deep  breath,  and  made  an  effort  for 
composure. 

"  I  am  glad,"  he  said,  "that  only  you  and  I,  Mr. 
Tunliffe,  were  here.  John  hardly  counts.  You  and 
I  know  how  to  respect  a  lady's  name,  and  this  as- 
tounding incident  will  never  be  heard  of  again. 
Now,  shall  we  go  and  look  at  those  wethers  ?  " 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  drought  continued.  September  was  more 
than  half  over,  and  the  outlook  in  the  country  was 
as  bad  as  it  had  ever  been  known  to  be,  even  in  a 
land  of  alternate  drought  and  flood.  For  the  mo- 
ment in  the  Beulah  district  there  was  no  lack  of 
water  in  the  creeks,  and  Rennard's  place  had  been 
taken  by  a  man  who  journeyed  to  and  from  creek 
and  garden  with  a  cart  and  horse,  fulfilling  the  re- 
quirements of  Soy  Ching.  Hazell  knew  himself 
comparatively  fortunate,  for  he  could  still  enjoy  his 
daily  parboiling,  and  still  the  tub  on  the  shelf  in 
the  bath-room  was  daily  supplied  for  the  ensuing 
douche.  Elsewhere,  matters  were  different.  From 
far  west  came  families  driven  out  by  water  famine ; 
from  further  north  came  true  stories  of  households 
which  could  get  drink,  but  had  ceased  to  wash,  and 
on  all  sides  the  failing  live-stock  crawled  feebly 
about  paddocks  as  bare  as  a  desert,  or  starved  in 
paddocks  where  scorched,  sapless  herbage  stood 
white  and  valueless  in  the  hard-baked  soil.  It 
seemed  as  though  three  years  of  insufficient  rain 
were  about  to  culminate  in  unrelieved  ruin  for  a 
pastoralist  community. 

For  Hazell,  the  worst  of  all  the  long-drawn  agony 
was  the  enforced  inaction.  Not  only  was  there 
nothing  to  be  done,  but  there  was  nothing  to  do. 
If  he  had  been  a  millionaire  he  could  not  have  fed 


HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE  99 

and  watered  50,000  sheep,  with  cattle  and  horses, 
scattered  over  a  run  twelve  or  thirteen  miles  long 
and  about  half  as  broad.  Given  the  labour,  the 
necessary  fodder  was  unprocurable,  even  at  famine 
prices.  Every  homestead  in  the  colony  wanted  hay 
and  corn  for  such  animals  as  were  indispensable  for 
draught  and  carriage,  for  consumption,  and  these 
were  poorly  kept  at  excessive  cost.  The  man  who 
had  a  precious  field  of  capricious  Lucerne  grass  was 
the  only  man  who  was  making  money. 

Hazell  rode  among  his  dying  flocks,  growing 
weaker  day  by  day,  and  heard  with  despair  the 
opulent  triumph  of  the  carrion-crows.  His  lambs 
died  as  they  were  born,  and  the  exhausted  ewes 
died  with  them.  Sick  with  the  stench  of  the  bodies, 
which  polluted  all  the  wide,  sunny  air,  he  had  them 
raked  together  and  burnt — a  pitiable  loss !  He  had 
scores  of  the  weakest  shot  or  knocked  on  the  head 
for  the  sake  of  their  fleeces,  that  some  trifle  might 
be  saved  from  the  general  destruction.  Live  sheep 
might  be  bought  anywhere  for  leagues  about  at  a 
few  pence  a  head. 

Burrabindar,  as  we  know,  had  been  neglected  for 
years  past,  and  carried  very  little  first-rate  stock, 
only  a  small  number  of  rams  and  ewes  required 
artificial  feeding.  There  was  nothing  to  do  but 
look  on.  The  improvements  to  the  property  for 
which  the  new  master  was  so  anxious  were  out  of 
the  question.  One  cannot  burn  off  dead  timber 
when  a  chance  spark  may  cause  a  fire  miles  long, 
nor  plant  ornamental  trees  in  ground  as  dry  as  tinder 
and  as  hard  as  a  solid  rock.  And  day  after  day  the 


100  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

unwelcome  sun  arose  punctually,  and  shone  as 
brightly  as  he  could  through  every  possible  minute, 
as  though  his  were  the  most  desired  of  presences, 
and  departed  in  glory.  And  night  after  night  the 
frost  was  keen  on  the  bloodless  earth,  and  daily 
and  nightly  each  was  more  injurious. 

One  morning  a  visitor  arrived  at  eight  o'clock, 
expecting  breakfast ;  he  was  a  small,  dark  fellow, 
young,  and  bright-eyed,  with  a  pleasant,  careless 
manner — Caradon  Bolitho. 

"  Thought  you'd  be  getting  pretty  sick  of  this, 
new-chum,  and  all  alone,"  said  he  in  a  friendly  way. 
"  Thought  I'd  come  over  and  be  neighbourly." 

Hazell  apologised  for  the  deficiencies  of  his  bill 
of  fare.  There  were  neither  eggs  nor  butter,  and 
the  milk  was  of  the  poorest  quality. 

"  Oh  dear  me,  I  know  all  about  it,"  said  Caradon. 
"  I've  lived  through  this  kind  of  thing  before.  Of 
course,  we're  better  off  at  Wamagatta — better  pre- 
pared, you  know,  plenty  of  tanks  and  dams ;  and 
my  mother  took  possession  of  a  little  arm  of  the 
Tunga  River  twenty  years  ago,  and  made  it  into  a 
private  stream  of  our  own.  Great  idea,  that,  of 
hers.  Dare  say  the  authorities  will  kick  up  about 
it  some  day.  These  frosts  beat  me,  though.  Spring 
frosts  are  damnation  to  the  pastoralist,  neither  more 
nor  less.  We  are  bound  to  lose  heavily,  in  spite  of 
all  our  precautions,  and  as  for  you — why,  it's  rough 
on  you,  I  must  say." 

"  Well,  there's  only  myself  to  suffer."  said  Hazell. 

"  That's  good  as  far  as  it  goes,"  replied  Caradon. 
"But,  if  I  may  say  so,  I  think  a  man  is  happiest 


HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE  101 

married.  Keeps  him  steady,  makes  him  work  in  a 
more  definite  way,  you  know.  I  wouldn't  be  single 
again." 

Hazell  bowed.  Fresh  supplies  were  brought  for 
the  visitor's  consumption,  and  he  fell  upon  them 
with  fine  appetite. 

"  I  hope  you  mean  to  be  one  of  us  and  do  your 
duty  in  the  colony,"  said  he  as  he  ate  and  drank. 
"  We  always  allow  ourselves  great  hopes  of  a  new- 
comer. You'll  be  asked  to  join  several  things — 
Boards  and  Councils  and  so  forth,  of  course ;  and 
I  am  here,  among  other  reasons,  to  invite  you  to 
become  a  member  of  the  Polo  Club.  Polo  is  my 
hobby — that  and  sheep-breeding." 

"  I  am  too  heavy  for  the  one,  though  not,  I  hope, 
for  the  other,"  said  Hazell,  smiling. 

"  Well,  you're  heavier  than  I  am,  certainly,"  said 
the  young  man,  looking  at  his  host  critically.  "  I 
turn  the  scale  at  ten  stone." 

"  I  don't  own  to  more  than  fifteen,"  said  Hazell 
jocularly. 

"  I  knew  a  man — a  Sydney  man — who  rode  fif- 
teen stone  and  did  some  of  the  best  play  I  have 
ever  seen  in  my  life,"  answered  Caradon  earnestly ; 
"  but  you'd  soon  be  down  to  thirteen  if  you'd  ride 
over  regularly  to  our  practices  and  play  them  hon- 
estly through." 

"  On  a  motor-car  ?  I  am  a  quiet  old  stager  now- 
adays. The  rushes  of  life  are  over  for  me." 

"  They  say,  Mr.  Hazell,  that  you  have  been  a  sol- 
dier." 

Hazell  bowed,  admitting  it. 


102  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

"  My  brother  Eldred  is  a  gunner."  Hazell  bowed 
again.  "  Have  you  ever  seen  any  active  service  ?  " 

"  I  always  had  the  bad  luck  to  miss  it,"  said  Ha- 
zell, and  got  up  and  stood  before  the  fire. 

Caradon,  full  of  curiosity,  felt  that  he  could  not 
press  further,  but  he  looked  with  admiration.  The 
figure  was  grand  in  spite  of  the  coming  heaviness  ; 
the  face  was  strong  and  manly ;  he  gave  the  im- 
pression of  one  who  had  seen  the  wide  world  and 
was  not  afraid  of  it. 

"  I  have  come  here  to  be  quiet  and  useful  and  get 
old  with  dignity,"  said  Hazell,  in  his  quick  way. 

"  Well,  there  isn't  much  adventure  in  these  set- 
tled parts,"  Caradon  admitted.  "  Bushranging  and 
gold-fever  and  fights  with  the  natives  are  all  over, 
as  far  as  we  are  concerned.  We  get  up  a  bit  of 
sport  now  and  then,  a  day  after  brush-turkeys  or 
so,  but  it's  a  calm  life  enough,  unless  you  call 
droughts  exciting.  Yery  good  spiced  beef,  I  must 
say." 

They  rode  about  the  run  together,  Caradon  talk- 
ing cheerfully,  full  of  anecdote  and  information.  A 
wild  weak  fancy  awoke  in  HazelPs  mind — to  ad- 
vertise for  a  "  colonial  experiencer,"  on  the  chance 
of  securing  the  companionship  of  such  another  in- 
telligent chatterbox,  who  might  save  him  from 
many  stormy  hours  of  thought.  The  fancy  was 
checked  at  birth.  He  drew  his  new  friend's  atten- 
tion to  a  gully  at  hand,  where  a  little  water  ran 
steadily. 

"  Do  you  see  this  ?  It  puzzles  me,"  he  said.  "  A 
month  ago  this  was  dry.  For  a  week  or  so  past 


HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE  103 

there  has  been  a  small,  brisk  stream  in  it.  I  can 
hear  of  no  drop  of  rain  for  miles.  I  have  seen  no 
trace  of  mist  on  the  hills  behind,  and  yet  there  is 
water  here  where  there  was  none." 

"It's  the  same  with  us.  It's  one  of  the  odd 
things  in  this  country  of  mine  that  strangers  call  so 
all-round  odd.  Sort  of  thing  people  write  to  the 
papers  about  every  dry  season,  I  believe." 

"Well,  but  the  reason ?" 

"No  one  rightly  knows,  of  course.  Never  do 
rightly  know  any  reason  for  anything,  it  seems  to 
me — at  least,  scientific  people  never  do." 

"Why,  no,"  said  Hazell,  laughing.  "I  have 
often  noticed  that  one  advantage  of  being  a  man 
of  science  is  that  you  can  say  you  don't  know  any- 
thing about  anything  without  being  considered  an 
ass." 

"  Ah,  good  !  "  cried  Caradon.  "  I  shall  carry  that 
to  my  mother.  She  loves  a  smart  saying.  But 
seriously,  Mr.  Hazell,  they  say,  some  of  'em,  that 
it's  the  extreme  contraction  of  the  ground,  the 
shrinkage,  you  know,  because  of  the  shocking  dry- 
ness,  and  there's  always  water  somewhere,  it  seems, 
and  it  is  forced  up.  Do  you  see  ?  " 

"  I  see  ;  thanks." 

"  They  give  other  reasons,  too,  but  this  is  about 
the  simplest  of  them,  and  you  will  notice  in  the 
summer  another  queer  habit  of  our  water-courses : 
they'll  run  free  in  the  morning  and  evening,  when 
the  sun  isn't  so  powerful,  and  about  noon  they  go 
slow,  not  half  the  size.  Why,  I  hear  there's  a  neat 
little  gully  full  of  water  on  Brooksby  burst  out 


104  HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE 

lately  where  there  hasn't  been  a  sign  of  moisture 
within  the  memory  of  the  oldest  inhabitant." 

They  ate  their  sandwiches  together,  and  Hazell 
promised  to  become  a  vice-president  of  the  Polo 
Club,  and  to  spend  a  day  shortly  at  Wamagatta  in 
the  entertainment  of  its  manager ;  but  the  latter 
lamented  to  his  wife  that  an  agreeable  companion 
and  an  experienced  sportsman  seemed  inclined  to 
stand  aloof  from  local  things  and  bury  himself  in 
his  arid  hermitage. 

"  Close  as  death  about  himself,  too,  and  yet  one 
can  see  he  would  be  interesting  if  he  only  would," 
he  added. 

"I  suppose  he  is  sure  not  to  dance,"  said  the 
wife,  a  languid  Victorian,  who  worshipped  Terpsi- 
chore by  nature  and  nationality. 

"  I'll  put  any  money  on  it  he  doesn't,"  was  the 
reply. 

The  weekly  services  at  the  little  district  church 
saw  nothing  of  the  master  of  Burrabindar.  He 
spent  Sundays  in  his  sitting-room  reading  many 
newspapers,  writing  a  few  letters,  and,  from  old 
habit,  dipping  into  one  or  more  of  the  various 
books  which  he  had  once  studied  with  a  view  to 
self-improvement,  or  to  advancement  in  the  profes- 
sion he  had  once  adored.  Hazell  had  entered 
Kugby  late  in  his  boyhood,  and  his  early  years  had 
been  divided  between  French  and  German  schools. 
He  knew  both  languages  well ;  he  had  a  smattering 
of  Kussian  and  of  one  or  two  dialects  of  Hindo- 
stanee ;  musketry  and  military  commissariat  had 
attracted  him,  and  he  had  delighted  in  the  war 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  105 

game.  No  man  of  his  standing  had  been  more  re- 
solved on  advancement,  nor  better  prepared  for  it, 
yet  here  he  was,  arms  and  men  alike  laid  aside, 
awaiting  the  long  pleasure  of  Nature. 

"  It  might  be  a  siege,  it  might  be  solitary  con- 
finement on  parole,  but  it  might  be  worse  ;  it  might 
be  that  year  over  again !  "  he  wrote  one  Sunday,  in 
a  letter  addressed  to  Thomas  Hazell,  Esq.,  of  Ha- 
zell  and  Co.,  Colonial  Brokers,  Fenchurch  Street, 
E.G. 

One  day  he  took  his  unwilling  horse  up  and 
down  and  along  the  steep  stony  hills  that  formed 
his  eastern  boundary.  The  gum-trees,  starved  out, 
showed  lines  of  dead  white  leaves  among  the  green- 
grey  forest  monotone.  Here  and  there  a  wallaby 
bounded  far  and  fast  at  his  approach,  or  a  kanga- 
roo-rat sprang  wildly  up  as  from  under  him,  and 
startled  the  animal  he  rode.  All  day  heavy  clouds 
had  brooded  southwest  in  the  sky,  and  he  had 
fancied  occasional  lightning  flashes  among  them, 
but  he  noticed  them  almost  without  hope,  so  often 
had  they  gathered  in  such  fashion  and  broken  away 
fruitlessly.  It  is  the  tantalisation  of  drought  that 
great  curtains  of  moisture  float  and  hang  continu- 
ally over  longing  heads,  only  to  disappear.  An  un- 
seasonably warm  wind  had  swept  the  land  for  two 
or  three  days  before,  but  it  had  sunk  and  left  the 
air  extraordinarily  still.  Hazell  reined  in  his  horse 
for  some  time,  looking  at  the  scene  around  him 
and  below.  Great  plains  on  which  the  trees  grew 
gradually  fewer,  till  an  invading  brown  desert 
stretched  supreme,  lay  to  the  west.  In  the  dry  at- 


106  HEAETS  IMPOKTUNATE 

mosphere  human  sight  went  far — hills  twenty  miles 
distant  seemed  within  an  hour's  ride ;  the  gleam  of 
a  creek  showed  from  leagues  away.  The  landscape 
was  almost  colourless,  even  the  sky  whitish;  a 
patch  of  the  spring  green  of  England  laid  down  on 
any  part  of  it  would  have  stood  out  in  contrast  as 
sharp  as  a  lighthouse  in  the  night. 

He  stood  at  the  extreme  end  of  the  run  ;  his  own 
homestead  was  lost  to  sight  in  the  low  spurs  of  the 
range  northward ;  southward  he  could  distinguish 
the  little  wooden  home  of  Mrs.  Mumford,  whose 
guinea-fowl  had  strayed  to  serve  his  table.  Of  hu- 
man life  on  any  side  there  was  not  a  glimpse ;  so 
solitary  might  Adam  have  stood  on  the  hills  of 
Eden  surveying  his  inheritance,  but  Adam  in  a 
garden  bounded  by  rivers,  and  this  man  in  a  wilder- 
ness of  dry  bones.  He  was  tired.  In  determina- 
tion to  reach  the  highest  and  utmost  edge  of  Bur- 
rabindar,  he  had  ridden  some  time  into  the  after- 
noon. He  dismounted,  loosened  the  girths,  and 
tethered  his  horse  to  a  convenient  trunk;  then, 
having  eaten  his  spare  lunch,  he  lay  down  to  sleep. 
He  ft  woke  to  so  strange  and  awful  a  sunset  that  he 
seemed  to  be  dreaming  still.  South  and  west  a 
tenth  of  the  heavens  displayed  a  wild  extravagance 
of  splendour  and  menace ;  a  massed  purple  black- 
ness supplied  a  background  to  hard  billows  of  in- 
tense dark  blue,  which  lay  upon  it  in  higher  relief ; 
below,  between  the  cloud  line  and  the  land  line, 
was  a  glorious  vaporous  veil  of  every  shade  of 
golden  and  orange  brilliancy,  lit  by  the  hidden  sun 
above,  and  flying  columns  of  cloud — black,  brown- 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  107 

ish,  bronzed  or  gilded,  as  from  their  position  their 
waves  caught  the  light  or  not;  the  rays  of  the 
buried  fire  streamed  off  in  all  directions  up  the  sky, 
and  down  upon  the  earth,  and  seemed  to  hurry  to- 
ward the  hill  on  which  he  stood,  amazed,  admiring, 
half  in  dread.  As  he  questioned  what  to  do,  what 
spot  might  be  the  safest  to  avoid  the  onslaught 
which  must  immediately  come,  he  saw  small  whirl- 
ing objects  against  the  shimmering  transparency  of 
veil,  and  a  roar  of  distant  wind  reached  his  ears. 
The  whirling  things  increased  in  size ;  big  boughs 
and  then  whole  trees  flew  agonised  across  the  veil. 
The  roar  grew  louder,  mixed  with  sharp  sounds  of 
cracking  and  a  general  stir  of  breaking  substance. 
The  little  wooden  house  of  the  manager  of  Brooksby 
was  struck,  and  the  roof  carried  off,  and  closed  out- 
buildings were  overturned,  like  leaves  or  cards,  by 
the  unseen  violence  that  passed  over  them.  A  few 
tiny  human  beings,  running  out  like  ants,  fell  and 
lay  like  shreds  or  seeds  upon  the  ground.  A  cold 
storm-breath  gained  himself  and  made  him  clutch 
his  hat,  and  then  the  veil,  no  longer  glorious,  but  of 
mist  and  rain,  rushed  upon  him  and  blotted  out  the 
scene  of  ruin.  He  dragged  the  horse,  hurrying  as 
fast  as  it  would  follow,  down  the  lee  side  of  the 
height,  and  they  stood  together  in  the  shelter  of  a 
limestone  boulder  while  the  outer  edge  of  the  cy- 
clone swept  the  ridge,  and  the  forest  swayed  and 
snapped  above,  and  a  solid  sea  of  water  drenched 
them. 

The  worst  was  over  in  a  minute.     The  circle  of 
destruction  had  but  touched  him ;  he  waited  shiver- 


108  HEAETS  IMPOKTUNATE 

ing,  blinded  by  rain,  confused  by  wind,  till  the  day 
was  past  and  the  short  twilight  gave  early  place  to 
a  night  of  settled  downpour.  He  started  home 
slowly,  letting  the  horse  for  the  most  part  take  its 
own  way.  No  longer  danger,  but  discomfort  re- 
mained, the  discomfort  of  clothes  soaked  in  water, 
heavy  and  cold  on  the  body,  of  a  saddle  soft  and 
slippery,  of  unavailable  tobacco  in  a  sodden  pouch. 
The  two  creeks  that  crossed  his  road  were  running 
fairly  high,  but  so  far  there  was  nothing  like  flood 
on  Burrabindar,  and,  inasmuch  as  he  could  judge  in 
the  gloom,  and  infer  from  the  trend  of  the  storm, 
his  property  had  escaped  serious  damage. 

The  drought  was  over :  rain  fell  in  solemn-sound- 
ing torrents. 


CHAPTER  IX 

HAZELL  devoted  several  following  days  to  the 
demands  of  fever,  the  poll-tax  of  Anglo-Indians. 
While  the  rain  roared  around,  he  lay  alternately 
tossing  and  prostrate  in  his  dark,  lonely  room,  from 
which  the  wide  verandah-roof  shut  out  the  sight  and 
the  light  of  the  low  grey  sky.  He  physicked  him- 
self from  choice,  but  also  from  necessity,  for  no 
medical  aid  could  have  been  called  across  the 
turbulent  water-courses  which  raged  between  him 
and  Beulah,  even  if  the  horse  or  the  cart  of  the 
most  robust  practitioner  could  have  surmounted  the 
deep  vertical  inches  of  mud,  the  intervals  of  bog, 
the  boughs,  tree-trunks,  and  other  obstacles  which 
strewed  what  in  fair  weather  was  a  tolerable  Bush 
road. 

When  he  again  stepped  out,  somewhat  feeble, 
into  the  sunshine,  the  soil  was  brown  where  it  had 
been  white,  and  a  sheet  of  tender,  pervading  green 
lay  over  the  whole  face  of  it.  The  pastoralist 
future  was  no  longer  a  hope,  it  was  a  certainty. 
Loss  there  would  be,  even  to  the  half  of  the  flocks ; 
but  it  could  be  borne.  Life,  insistent,  unconquer- 
able, eternal,  was  warm  in  the  gently -reeking  earth, 
was  triumphant  in  the  chord  of  the  magpies,  the 
screech  of  the  cockatoo,  the  lowing  and  bleat- 
ing of  the  cattle  in  the  yards.  Convalescent,  with 
that  dulness  of  the  brain  and  that  stir  of  the  emo- 

109 


110  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

tions  which  accompany  returning  health,  as  though 
with  greater  weakness  one's  body  took  the  perilous 
path  of  least  resistance,  Hazell  felt  himself  also 
warm,  and  the  spring  was  in  his  veins  also.  The 
past  was  not  forgotten,  but  it  might  come  to  be  un- 
noticed ;  the  old  line  of  life,  of  thought,  of  circum- 
stances, was  neither  broken  nor  cancelled,  but  a  new 
line  might  run  unhindered  by  its  side — the  substance 
to  its  shadow.  Reviving  energy  swept  to  and  fro  in 
him,  the  light  fluid  mass  of  it  taking  shape  from  time 
to  time  of  Avis  Fletcher.  She  visited  his  thoughts 
like  a  ghost.  Now  she  would  stand  radiant  with 
a  promise  of  joy,  like  a  golden  figure  of  dawn  in  a 
virgin  world ;  now  she  galloped  before  him  on  a 
flying  horse,  a  vision  of  achievement  or  of  fame ; 
now  she  sat  spinning,  spinning,  and  the  calm  of 
sweetest  peace,  of  evening  rest,  was  the  essence  of 
the  song  of  her  wheel. 

Suddenly  he  -remembered  the  odious  shriek  of 
Rennard.  It  had  escaped  his  memory  in  the  cares 
of  the  immediate  days,  in  the  depressing  illness,  but 
it  came  back  to  him  with  an  intensity  of  wonder 
and  suspicion,  with  amazement  that  he  should  have 
forgotten  a  thing  so  outrageous.  The  accusation 
was  horrible !  Was  there  foundation  for  it,  how- 
ever slight  ?  or  did  it  spring  entirely  from  the  ma- 
lignancy of  a  low  creature  balked  in  an  attempt  at 
fraud,  with  perhaps  a  criminal  record  for  his  past, 
which  he  feared  might  be  known  by  her  whom  he 
claimed  to  know  ?  Hazell  pondered.  He  could  not 
put  the  question  by.  He  answered  it  in  every  con- 
ceivable way — with  indignant  repudiation,  with  in- 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  111 

genious  substantiation.  He  considered  her  from 
fresh  points  of  view,  critically  examining  each  de- 
tail of  which  he  was  in  possession.  There  were  her 
dignity,  her  beauty,  her  noble,  if  mistaken,  enthusi- 
asm of  sympathy  for  the  poor  dead  girl  Emily,  and 
for  the  sufferings  of  her  sex.  Hazell  knew,  as  all 
men  know,  that  woman  has  fair  cause  of  complaint 
against  man  and  against  society.  He  knew  that  it 
was  required  of  her  to  be  an  exquisite  kind  of  para- 
dox— good  and  pure,  steadfast  in  her  constancy,  and 
yet  abundant  in  a  piquant  sauce  of  coquetry  and 
wiles ;  and  should  the  one  part  predominate,  she  is 
heavy,  unattractive ;  and  should  the  other,  she  is 
light,  unworthy.  To  be  fascinating — the  reason  of 
her  being — she  must  maintain  unstable  equilibrium. 
Man,  were  he  asked  to  do  this,  would  refuse  the 
endless  effort.  Miss  Fletcher's  expressions  on  the 
subject  of  her  sex  were  easy  to  be  understood, 
Hazell  decided,  and  to  be  written  down  to  the  ac- 
count of  that  undying  protest  of  youth  against 
whatever  seems  to  it  wrong.  And  yet,  why  her 
seclusion  on  the  fringe  of  civilisation  ?  There  was 
no  hint  of  present  ill-health  ;  no  threat  of  lung  or 
other  disease.  Why  had  she  left  her  English  home  ? 
and  why,  here,  did  she  avoid  her  own  kind,  who 
would  so  willingly  make  her  life  delightful  with  all 
that  women  are  supposed  to  value  ?  The  world 
abounds  in  men  who  ask  for  nothing  so  much  as  an 
occasion  of  petting  and  enjoying  beauty.  Had  she 
not,  then,  against  this  world  some  private  cause  of 
passionate  resentment?  If  so,  did  this  Eennard 
know  it?  Hazell  reviewed  the  circumstances  of 


112  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

their  first  meeting.  He  could  remember  no  sign 
that  she  had  remarked  the  man.  He  recollected  the 
refinement  of  her  surroundings,  and  the  recollection 
baffled  him,  for  he  could  associate  nothing  discred- 
itable with  Mr.  or  Mrs.  Bolitho.  He  thrust  aside 
suspicion;  it  returned,  it  embittered  his  days  of 
gathering  strength,  for  the  realm  of  guess  is  as 
wide  as  the  mind  that  begets  it,  and  contains  no 
certainty  but  vexation.  He  felt  that  he  must  see 
her  soon.  He  told  himself  that  his  large  experi- 
ence of  women  would  judge  her  unerringly.  A 
meeting,  a  few  searching  looks,  a  little  well-directed 
observation,  would  show  him  the  kind  of  person  he 
dealt  with.  But,  again,  why  ?  Oh,  maddening  fix- 
ity of  an  active  mind  brooding  through  lonely  days ! 
Oh,  detestable  and  unchivalrous  curiosity !  In  any 
case  whatever,  how  did  it  concern  him  ?  Was  it  not 
enough  that  he  had  met  with  kindness  in  the  house 
where  she  lived?  And  what  was  the  manner  of 
man  who  had  accused  her  ?  A  human  ferret,  a  rat, 
for  instant  dislike  and  extrusion.  So  Hazell  strug- 
gled with  the  unruly  kingdom  of  his  thoughts. 

The  local  newspaper  set  forth  a  polo  match  to  be 
played  on  the  coming  Saturday  between  the  teams 
known  as  Beulah  and  Blowye.  The  ground  of  the 
first  named  was  to  be  the  place  of  meeting.  A 
newly-elected  vice-president  owed  some  courtesy  to 
the  society ;  it  might  be  a  good  opportunity  to  make 
his  first  public  appearance  in  the  neighbourhood. 
Miss  Fletcher,  from  her  love  of  horsemanship,  might 
be  among  the  onlookers,  and  he  might  meet  her  on 
neutral  ground. 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  113 

Although  the  sun  had  reigned  undisputed  with 
increasing  heat  for  more  than  a  week,  the  roads 
were  still  heavy  with  mud,  and  he  drove  in  a  sulky, 
supplied  with  great-coat  and  rugs  against  the  chill 
of  the  evening,  and  told  himself  he  was  an  old 
fogey  as  he  did  so. 

A  broad,  cleared  paddock  was  given  up  to  the 
game.  It  was  rather  high  ground,  and  the  flat 
surface  was  sufficiently  dry  and  in  order  for  its 
purpose.  A  small  crowd  of  onlookers  held  one  side, 
with  a  mixture  of  vehicles  and  riding-horses — dis- 
orderly, unpicturesque ;  a  small,  dingy  British 
crowd.  On  the  other  side  rough  grooms  held  smart 
polo  ponies,  and  coats  and  bundles  of  polo-sticks 
lay  together  about  the  fence.  It  was  a  brilliant 
afternoon.  The  white  shirts  of  the  players  ready 
for  play  gleamed  on  the  field,  and  as  he  drew  nearer 
his  eye  took  a  sense  of  something  golden,  which 
quickened  the  blood  in  his  veins,  and  unconsciously, 
from  long  habit  of  control,  he  steadied  his  fingers 
on  the  reins,  and  brought  his  thoroughbred  to  a 
walk,  looking  elsewhere — at  the  low  eastern  hills, 
at  the  lower  line  of  the  township — until  he  had 
driven  slowly  up  behind  the  small  group  of  people. 
There  had  been  no  need,  for  the  moment,  of  closer 
attention.  What  he  came  to  see  was  there.  Miss 
Fletcher  sat  with  Mrs.  Bolitho  in  a  light  buggy,  and 
watched  the  match.  Except  themselves,  he  knew 
no  one  there,  but  he  felt  that  all  knew  him.  Had 
there  been  any  doubt  as  to  the  name  of  the  broad- 
shouldered,  soldier-like  stranger  who  appeared  in  so 
small  a  community,  his  sulky,  long  identified  with 


114:  HEAETS  IMPOETUNATE 

Burrabindar,  would  have  told  them  who  he  was, 
and  he  noticed  a  little  stir  among  the  several  ladies 
— under  a  score — who  for  a  moment  faced  him,  be- 
hind, more  interesting  than  the  fight  before  them. 

Miss  Fletcher  wore  a  cream-coloured  cloth  jacket 
and  a  blue  silk  tie,  and  there  was  a  blue  band  round 
her  sailor-hat.  Hazell  perceived  that  Caradon  Bo- 
litho,  slim  and  wiry,  in  a  blue  cap,  was  playing 
"  back  "  against  the  Eeds  of  Bio  wye — playing  by 
far  the  best  of  any  man  on  either  side.  The  famil- 
iar cries,  the  familiar  thud  and  beat  of  galloping 
feet,  bore  him  away  to  India  and  past  days  of  just 
such  delicious  excitement.  So  had  he  shouted,  so 
had  he  hustled  his  adversary  and  swept  the  ground, 
and  stooped  and  reached  and  made  brave,  risky 
strokes  for  the  joy  of  the  doing  and  the  praise  of 
one  whose  praise — had  it  ever  been  really  his  ?  A 
curse  rose  in  his  throat ;  the  surging  in  his  brain 
blinded  his  eyes.  "  Fool !  "  he  thought  furiously. 
"  Fool  to  come  here  !  Get  home  with  you !  " 

A  rider  came  cantering  past  him  on  his  way  to 
replace  a  broken  stick  from  his  reserve  supply. 
"  Time  "  was  called,  and  Hazell  recovered  calmness 
to  find  Mrs.  Bolitho  looking  round  from  her  carriage 
and  smiling  on  him.  Handing  the  reins  to  his  man, 
he  went  to  speak  to  her  on  foot.  She  was  among 
the  foremost  of  the  spectators,  and  as  he  stepped 
between  the  vehicles,  the  whole  district,  as  it  were, 
had  a  good  view  of  the  new  squatter,  a  person  pre- 
sumably of  some  wealth  and  without  encumbrance, 
who  had  come  to  make  his  home  among  them. 
Marriage  is,  it  may  be  said,  more  highly  esteemed 


HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE  115 

in  a  young  country  than  in  an  old,  or  it  may  seem 
so,  because  general  conversation  turns  upon  it  more 
candidly.  He  was  an  interesting  possibility,  an 
object  of  conjecture  to  every  woman  present,  and 
there  was  not  one  who  did  not  conjecture  something, 
contrive  something,  weave  something  in  her  mind 
as  he  stood  beside  the  ladies  from  Wamagatta. 
Mrs.  Bolitho  gave  him  her  hand,  but  Miss  Fletcher, 
who  sat  beyond  her,  met  him  only  with  a  bow ;  yet 
he  smiled,  as  it  were,  involuntarily,  and  remained 
smiling,  with  an  occasional  glance  at  her  while  he 
gave  some  account  of  his  late  illness  to  Mrs.  Bolitho. 
She  had  seen  that  kind  of  smile  many  times  on 
many  faces,  all  of  them  masculine.  It  is  a  weak 
smile,  self-conscious,  with  an  impression  on  the  fea- 
tures that  they  had  had  to  yield  to  it,  yet  that  there 
has  been  joy  and  satisfaction  in  yielding. 

"  I've  known  men  twice  as  bad  as  myself,"  said 
he  quickly,  in  words  which  bore  no  reference  to  his 
expression  of  countenance.  "  One  poor  chap  in  par- 
ticular I  remember,  who  used  to  get  attacks  from 
time  to  time.  Half  an  hour  after  the  fever  was  on 
him  he  would  be  so  prostrate  that  he  could  not  rise 
from  the  bed  or  ground  or  wherever  he  happened 
to  be  lying.  I  remember  one  day,  when  his  syce 
was  out " 

Two  young  women — slight,  supple  beings  in  well- 
worn  riding  habits — came  up  to  speak  to  Mrs.  Bo- 
litho. They  had  small,  thin  faces,  brown,  indeter- 
minate, of  a  quaint  and  impertinent  sort.  They 
held  out  tiny  flexible  hands  in  shabby  gauntlets. 
In  lands  where  riding  is  a  necessity  ornamental  gear 


116  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

is  not  expected.  Hazell  was  introduced  to  the  Miss 
Railtons  of  Brooksby;  but  the  play  began  again, 
and  he  turned  to  watch  it. 

"  Ah !  Red  three  has  made  a  mistake,"  he  ex- 
claimed. "  That  was  a  fine  run  of  his  down  the  side, 
but  he  had  plenty  of  time  to  take  a  pull  and  make 
a  shot  for  goal,  instead  of  smacking  the  ball  be- 
hind." 

"You  are  speaking  of  my  brother,"  said  the 
younger,  Annie  Railton.  "  They  say  he  is  a  better 
horseman  than  hitter." 

"  Often  the  case,"  Hazell  agreed,  and  then  added 
politely :  "  You  are  all  such  horsemen  in  this 
country ! " 

"  So  you  must  think,  I'm  sure,"  put  in  her  sister, 
May.  "  Here  you  see  us,  your  neighbours  on  one 
side,  for  the  first  time,  in  habits ;  and  did  not  Miss 
Fletcher,  who  is  a  kind  of  neighbour  on  the  other, 
ride  over  to  welcome  you  before  any  one  else  ?  " 

The  girl  laughed  maliciously,  and  looked  point- 
edly at  Avis,  to  whom  she  had  so  far  said  nothing. 
Hazell  saw  her  start  very  slightly,  and  with  the 
instinct  of  shielding  her,  he  rushed  in  with  a  re- 
tort: 

"  How  did  you  know  that  ?  Were  you  also  be- 
leaguered and  thirsty  in  the  home  paddock  of  what 
was  supposed  to  be  an  empty  house  ?  If  so,  why 
didn't  you  come  in,  too  ?  Your  charity  is  not  equal 
to  Miss  Fletcher's,  or  shall  I  say  your  menage  ?  " 

The  girl  tossed  her  head. 

"I  don't  know  about  charity,"  she  answered, 
"  but  I  shan't  tell  you  how  I  heard  it.  One  hears 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  117 

everything  in  the  Bush  somehow — everything  there 
is  to  be  heard." 

She  raised  her  voice  in  emphasis,  and  looked  at 
Avis  again  pointedly. 

Avis  looked  back  attentively.  Her  complexion 
was  not  of  the  kind  that  changes  easily,  and  there 
was  neither  flush  nor  pallor  to  show  that  she  was 
in  any  way  affected ;  but  Hazell,  as  though  in  mys- 
terious sympathy  with  her,  felt  the  sudden  bound 
in  her  veins,  and  his  eyes  caught  the  flicker  of  a 
pulse  in  her  throat  between  the  collar  and  the  ear. 

Mrs.  Bolitho,  aware  immediately  of  what  is  known 
as  feline  amenity,  descended  swiftly  on  the  girl  who 
had  introduced  it. 

"  Pray,  how  do  you  know  that  you  hear  every- 
thing ?  I  think  it  most  likely  that  there  is  a  great 
deal  more  you  do  not  hear  and  never  know  anything 
at  all  about." 

"  For  instance,"  put  in  Hazell,  still  conscious  of 
the  beating  pulse,  "there's  that  wonderful  thing 
they  will  never  discover — that  cosmo  veil — which 
would  revolutionise  the  whole  of  human  movement, 
which  would  be  the  most  marvellous  discovery 
known  to  history.  You've  heard  nothing  of  that, 
of  course." 

"  Cosmo  veil  ?  "  May  Railton  repeated  doubtfully ; 
then  hastily  :  "  How  could  I  have  heard  of  a  thing 
they  will  never  discover  ? — or  you  either,  Mr.  Ha- 
zell? You  are  making  fun  of  me.  Of  course,  I 
don't  mean  that  kind  of  thing  at  all.  I  mean  that 
what  people  don't  want  known  about  themselves 
comes  out,  sooner  or  later." 


118  HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE 

"  I  quite  think  it  does,"  said  Mrs.  Bolitho,  in  the 
frankest  of  indifferent  tones ;  "  and  the  moral  of  the 
matter  is  this :  Whatever  you  have  done — good, 
bad,  or  indifferent — stick  to  it.  The  world  takes 
one  mostly  at  one's  own  valuation." 

"  Unluckily  for  those  who  suffer  from  insufficient 
self-confidence,"  Hazell  agreed  with  her.  "And 
there  are  such." 

Inwardly  he  wrote  down  Miss  May  Eailton  as  a 
poisonous  social  insect,  and  wondered  if  it  were 
just  possible  that  some  of  her  venom  was  meant  for 
him.  Yet  it  was  surely  not  possible  ;  her  reference 
had  been  distinctly  to  Miss  Fletcher. 

"Are  you  one  of  the  self-depreciators,  Mr.  Ha- 
zell ?  "  asked  her  sister. 

"  I  leave  the  matter  to  you  and  to  time  and  to 
the  revelations  of  the  Bush,"  he  replied  solemnly. 
"As  a  newcomer,  I  am  greatly  obliged  to  you 
both.  On  your  authority,  I  shall  refuse  to  answer 
any  questions  concerning  myself;  it  would  be  su- 
perfluous." 

"  Bravo,  back !  "Well  played ! "  cried  Avis,  in  a 
clear,  ringing  voice,  looking  at  the  field. 

"  Is  that  my  Caradon  ?  I  am  an  unworthy 
mother !  What  did  he  do  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Bolitho. 

"A  splendid  back-hand er  on  the  near  side — 
placed  the  ball  perfectly.  Goal !  Bravo !  " 

"  I  suppose  you  are  not  coming  to  the  Bachelors' 
Ball  next  week,  Miss  Fletcher  ?  " 

A  big  man  of  jovial  air,  accompanied  by  an 
equally  well-nourished  wife,  came  up  and  saluted 
the  party  in  detail  in  hearty  tones. 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  119 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  I  think  not,  Dr.  Middlemass." 

May  Railton  demanded  suddenly,  in  a  tone  that 
was  shrill  with  excitement : 

"  Did  you  ever  go  to  balls  in  Southampton  shire, 
Miss  Fletcher  ?  " 

Hazell  saw  his  Diana  wince,  and  under  her  veil 
her  face  became  strange ;  in  the  colour  of  her  cheek 
and  that  of  her  hair,  which  usually  blended  in  the 
most  satisfying  way,  there  seemed  a  startling  dis- 
cordance, and  the  brown  eyes  with  their  lines  of 
curling  lashes,  and  the  straight  brow  above,  seemed 
to  have  grown  on  the  instant  much  darker,  and 
hard  in  their  effect. 

Instinctively  Hazell  moved  round  to  her  side  of 
the  carriage. 

"My  God!"  he  cried  inwardly;  "if  I  could 
break  that  Railton  girl  across  my  knees  ! " 

But  the  pause  was  short — no  more  than  might  be 
explained  by  astonishment  at  so  unexpected  a  refer- 
ence— before  Avis  answered  steadily  : 

"  Sometimes." 

Mrs.  Middlemass  seemed  to  wait  upon  the  word, 
and  her  husband  also,  through  his  professional 
good-humour,  gave  a  shrewd  ear,  and  both  the 
Misses  Railton  were  in  a  breathless  gasp  of  attend- 
ance. Mrs.  Bolitho  looked  round  on  them  all  in 
amazement.  Her  quick  mind  made  a  pictorial 
group  of  the  scene.  The  keen  inquisitive  little 
sisters  in  shabby  riding-habits,  excitement  blended 
of  fear  and  spite  in  their  little  indeterminate  coun- 
tenances; the  comfortable,  prudent  citizen  couple, 


120  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

who  loved  a  current  tale,  but  were  not  prepared  to 
dare  anything  for  the  truth  of  it ;  and  Avis,  vivid, 
detached,  so  quiet,  though  so  intensely  living,  sud- 
denly more  than  ever  a  creature  apart,  a  mark 
for  arrows  winged  by  malice.  By  her  side,  too, 
most  noticeable  of  all,  stood  the  stranger,  erect 
and  easy,  the  mature  knight  plainly  at  her  serv- 
ice. 

"  They  are  playing  again,"  said  Mrs.  Bolitho,  to 
change  the  position,  to  relieve  Avis,  to  get  time  to 
think.  Hazell  cared  nothing  further  for  the  polo. 
The  play  had  lost  its  interest  in  comparison  with 
the  bitter  social  by-play  which  he  recognised,  hated, 
and  resented  as  a  man  who  had  lived  among  it  and 
suffered  from  it. 

A  society  is  no  doubt  best,  but  there  are  hours 
when  one  pictures  the  superior  advantages  of  an  un- 
communicative, armed  individuality,  wherein  one's 
will  should  be  the  law  and  alien  'comment  capital. 
Hazell,  from  dire  experience,  was  quick  to  perceive 
the  stings  of  drawing-room  talk,  and  having  come 
in  search  of  Avis  with  inquisitorial  purpose  of  his 
own,  he  found  himself  her  involuntary  liege  and 
henchman.  "Who  should  say  but  that  there  were 
lies  concerning  her,  as  there  had  been  lies  concern- 
ing him  ?  He  glanced  at  her.  He  felt  her  nailed 
to  a  cross  of  seemly  endurance. 

"  An  excellent  sport,"  he  said  pleasantly.  "  But 
it  has  this  fault  to  an  onlooker ;  the  interest  does 
not  necessarily  culminate  toward  the  end.  One 
would  often  enjoy  it  most  if  one  left  half-way 
through." 


HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE  121 

Miss  Fletcher  turned  to  him.  The  fixity  of  her 
features  startled  him.  She  answered  still  steadily : 

"Every  public  thing  is  more  or  less  tiresome, 
don't  you  think?  And  polo  is  a  time  game;  like 
life,  the  best  of  it  is  often  at  the  beginning,  but  if 
one  does  not  wait  for  the  end,  though  there's  noth- 
ing to  be  got  by  doing  so,  the  world  calls  one  a 
coward." 

"The  world  is  a  hass;  but  there  is  one  thing 
which  seems  certain  to  a  stranger,  Miss  Fletcher : 
that  you  need  never  mind  anything  its  hass-hood 
may  chance  to  say." 

"Why?"  The  attitude  of  either  was  conven- 
tional. A  line  drawn  upward  from  the  wheel 
would  not  have  touched  him,  her  arm  was  well 
within  the  curve  of  the  rail,  yet  their  minds,  drawn 
forcibly  together,  met  in  an  exquisite  satisfaction, 
lie  spoke  in  an  uncontrollable  desire  to  uphold,  to 
praise,  to  cherish,  saying  anything  that  came  first ; 
she  answered  anything  that  had  a  coherent  sound, 
and  for  the  moment  she  trusted  herself  to  him 
against  the  world  as  one  has  seen  a  child's  head  lie 
in  a  protecting  hand,  as  one  has  felt  the  sweep  of 
the  wind  in  our  sail  urge  on  our  waters. 

"  Why  ? "  she  asked,  with  a  smile  of  relaxation 
and  content. 

"  When  a  woman  has  beauty  and  wit  and  courage 
and  freedom,  what  can  hurt  her  ?  Who  would  hurt 
her?" 

"  Every  one  can  be  hurt — except  those  who  can- 
not feel,  and  loss  of  feeling  is  nothing  else  than 
death." 


122  HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE 

"  Well,  I  am  glad  I  am  not  dead  yet." 

"  Are  you  ?  It  is  not  a  race,  you  know,  it  is  only 
polo." 

"So  much  the  better;  one  may  get  one's  goal 
earlier." 

"  Or  several  goals  ?  " 

His  face  clouded.  "  There  is  always  one  that  is 
best,"  he  cried. 

Mrs.  Bolitho  rounded  on  them  as  though  she  had 
taken  for  granted  their  interest  in  the  field. 

"  Poor  Caradon !  game  for  Blowye ! "  she  cried, 
and  looked  them  through  with  an  intelligent  flash. 

"  I  am  proud  of  being  vice-president,"  said 
Hazell,  with  great  determination  and  questionable 
logic. 

"You  are  certainly  loyal,"  replied  Mrs.  Bolitho, 
with  a  laugh.  "  The  ladies  take  it  in  turns  on  these 
occasions  to  quench  the  public  thirst,  Mr.  Hazell,  by 
billy-tea  made  in  the  corner  near  the  sticks."  Her 
eye  sought  that  of  Avis,  found  it,  and  continued : 
"  You  will  make  acquaintance  with  all  the  rest  of 
the  company  over  your  cup.  I  am  an  old  woman, 
and  evening  damp  does  not  suit  me.  Miss  Fletcher 
is  very  good  to  me,  and  will  drive  me  home  straight 
away." 

"  The  sun  sets,"  said  Hazell,  looking  at  Avis. 

The  elder  lady's  face  was  caught  in  a  spasm  of 
laughter.  "It  will  rise  again,"  she  said  reassur- 
ingly. "  Would  you  mind  putting  my  shawl  round 
my  shoulders  ?  " 

Avis  had  her  hands  full  of  whip  and  rein.  She 
meant  to  bow  in  farewell,  but  as  their  eyes  met 


HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE  123 

with  a  shock  to  her,  she  could  not  so  much  as 
smile.  Words  were  impossible ;  how  could  she 
bear  to  leave  him  ?  Yet  let  her  fly  to  the  utter- 
most parts  of  the  earth,  so  that  they  never  met 
again. 


CHAPTEK  X 

EALPH  HAZELL  had  begun  a  new  chapter  in  the 
book  of  his  life,  and  he  wrote  it  in  words  as  clear, 
as  emphatic,  as  single  of  purpose  as  though  it  had 
been  the  first  chapter  of  all.  The  letters  were 
luminous  with  hope,  the  page  was  ornate  with  ro- 
mance. Europe  and  the  complications  and  elabora- 
tions of  it,  India  and  the  highly-coloured  symbol- 
isms, the  worn  ambition  of  it,  were  nothing  to  him ; 
Australia  held  his  whole  treasure,  and  it  was  the 
promised  land.  The  Bush  was  no  longer  a  desert 
bringing  forth  the  grotesque  ;  it  was  a  virgin  coun- 
try, whose  pallor  was  the  delicacy  of  the  dawn, 
whose  monotony  best  awaited  enrichment,  wherein 
dwelt  one  man  and  one  woman,  and  the  woman  be- 
yond praise.  She  had  no  fault ;  she  had  no  flaws ; 
like  the  Parthenon,  she  convinced  at  first  sight  of 
her  perfections,  and  surely,  surely  she  was  his ! 
There  are  moments  which  admit  of  no  mistake. 
Such  had  been  these  when  he  stood  by  her  side,  and 
their  souls  had  flowed  into  each  other,  like  rivers 
that  meet.  Come  change,  come  death,  come  any- 
thing, she  had  been  his  then ;  either  could  have  put 
out  a  hand  and  said,  "  Let  us  go,"  and  the  other 
would  have  companied  obediently  to  the  end  of  the 
world.  It  was  overwhelming,  it  was  a  dream  of 
Olympian  beauty,  but  it  was  true,  and  he  accepted 
it.  Hazell's  eye  was  as  single  as  his  heart  was 

124 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  125 

strong;  when  he  was  fixed  nothing  shook  him; 
when  he  yielded  he  gave  everything.  He  had  no 
doubt  that  she  gave  equally.  It  was  as  though 
they  had  stood  together  on  the  bank  of  a  great 
stream,  and  with  fingers  interlocked  had  plunged 
into  it  together  ;  henceforward,  swimming  or  drift- 
ing, their  course  was  one.  It  was  himself  she 
loved,  and  not  his  past,  not  his  fortune,  for  she 
knew  nothing  of  either  of  them;  it  was  herself 
he  loved,  for  his  ignorance  of  her  circumstances 
was  no  less  than  hers  of  his;  but  love  takes  the 
place  of  all  wisdom,  and  the  man  who  has  been 
widely  called  the  wisest  declared  wisdom  to  be  a 
loving  spirit. 

HazelFs  pen  served  him  but  unwillingly,  and  he 
sent  no  letter.  Business  arose  and  kept  him  to  his 
bounds  for  a  full  week,  but  he  bore  it  tolerably ;  the 
hours  flew,  if  the  minutes  lagged,  the  glare  of  happy 
certainty  remaining  with  him.  When  he  could  pre- 
sent himself,  there  should  be  words  enough,  utter- 
ance, publication,  establishment  of  any  kind  she 
pleased  ;  some  regard  for  the  world,  through  all  his 
disdain  of  it,  urged  him  to  mark  her  for  his  own  as 
soon  as  possible.  Some  respect  for  its  hideous  pos- 
sibilities suggested  that  the  sooner  the  better  he 
should  be  generally  known  as  her  guard  and  hench- 
man. They  had  a  common  grievance,  it  seemed, 
when  he  thought  of  the  unexplained  insolence  of  the 
Railton  girl,  against  the  vile  tongue  of  the  world ; 
but  he  thought  of  it  little,  there  was  so  much  else 
brighter  to  engage,  for  instance,  his  evenings,  when 
he  encouraged  a  vision  of  the  spinning-wheel,  in  the 


126  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

hands  of  the  golden  worker,  murmuring  at  his  fire- 
side ;  or  his  mornings,  when  he  fancied  her  comrade- 
ship riding  radiant  through  the  grey  scene.  He 
checked  his  thoughts,  however,  making  virtue  of 
necessity,  and  worked  for  Burrabindar  in  these  days 
with  an  exuberance  of  energy  and  imagination.  It 
must  be  worthy  of  her.  He  went  throughout  the 
house,  projecting  alterations  ;  he  captured  wander- 
ing men,  putting  them  to  burn  off  timber ;  he  re- 
viewed his  stock,  picturing  a  series  of  prize  rams — 
Golden  Fleece  I.,  Golden  Fleece  II.,  and  so  on.  He 
made  inquiries  for  a  second  Chinese  gardener,  that 
there  might  be  beautiful  surroundings  for  her  when 
she  came.  Never  was  man  more  sanguine.  When 
the  jackasses  laughed  at  sunset,  he  laughed  with 
them.  Mrs.  Brock  noticed  a  difference  in  him; 
the  sternness  of  his  look  had  softened  and  the  some- 
what mechanical  cheeriness  of  a  well-mannered 
man  showed  a  sparkle  of  genuine  gladness. 

On  the  eighth  day  he  found  himself  at  liberty  to 
ride  forth  and  take  heaven  by  force.  He  dressed 
with  especial  care.  His  coat  and  gaiters  were  al- 
most new,  his  horse,  the  youngest  and  most  showy 
in  his  stables,  had  been  lately  clipped.  He  went  by 
way  of  the  township,  partly  that  he  might  spend 
his  morning  no  otherwise  than  on  the  road  to  Avis, 
partly  that  he  might  submit  his  head  and  beard  for 
the  trimming  of  the  barber.  He  tried  to  ride 
slowly,  but  the  grey  was  high-fed  and  responded 
smartly  to  the  impatience  of  his  mood  ;  miles  were 
as  nothing :  he  was  in  Beulah  before  the  sun  was 
high.  The  barber  had  no  other  customer ;  his  in- 


HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE  127 

considerable  lunch  required  so  little  preparation 
from  the  staff  of  the  Exchange  Hotel  that  it  was  in 
process  of  digestion  by  noon — three  hours  at  least 
before  that  of  polite  intrusion.  It  was  ceremonious, 
his  purpose  at  Wamagatta,  not  the  usual  Bush  visi- 
tation. Time  hung  on  his  hands.  There  was  a  bil- 
liard-room, but  the  marker  was  away.  There  was 
a  bank-manager,  but  he  was  occupied.  There  was 
neither  court  nor  market  in  process  ;  a  duller  resi- 
dential hole  could  not  be  dreamed  of.  Hazell 
drifted  idly  into  the  general  store,  where  the  iron- 
faced  importer  stood  as  usual  at  the  desk. 

"I  liked  that  saddle,"  said  the  squatter  pleas- 
antly. "  It  fitted  me  well,  for  a  ready-made  affair. 
When  you  get  in  any  more,  you  might  let  me  have 
another  like  it." 

Proudfoot  made  a  solemn  note  of  the  suggestion. 

"  Ye've  been  ill,  I  hear,"  he  said. 

"You  hear  everything,  of  course.  Every  one 
hears  everything  in  country  districts.  Different 
look  about  things  to-day  from  the  morning  when  I 
ate  your  breakfast." 

"  There's  just  as  different  a  look  about  yerseP, 
Mister  Hazell ;  you're  not  the  same  man." 

Hazell  laughed. 

"  I  took  your  advice  and  hoped." 

"  Do  ye  always  take  advice  sae  kindly  ?  " 

"A  man  of  my  size  is  naturally  weak-minded, 
easily  influenced  either  way  ;  but  though  a  prophet 
had  counselled  it,  I  don't  think  there  would  have 
been  much  kick  left  in  me,  if  I  had  had  to  watch 
my  stock  starve  for  many  weeks  longer.  I  had  cut 


128  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

down  half  my  she-oaks  for  them  as  it  was ;  sheep 
seem  able  to  eat  anything." 

"  Ay,  even  airth— even  their  ain  lambs." 

"  I  don't  know  why,  but  a  cannibal  sheep  seems 
even  more  monstrous  than  a  cannibal  man.  No  one 
has  ascertained,  I  suppose,  if  the  taste  of  his  own 
species  is  as  delicious  to  a  sheep  as  to  a  man ;  but 
grass  must  be  very  insipid  afterward.  That  little 
package  is  for  Wamagatta,  I  see.  I  am  going  there 
— shall  I  take  it?" 

"  Na,  na ;  no  need.  A  waggon-load  will  be  awa' 
to  them  the  day " 

Proudfoot  paused.  Hazell  chose  a  cigar  from  his 
case  very  leisurely,  cut  the  end  of  it,  prodded  it  to 
make  it  draw  well,  lighted  it  carefully,  and  passed 
it  backward  and  forward  under  his  nose,  inhaling 
the  smoke  critically. 

"  As  ye're  for  Wamagatta,  ye  might  tak'  a  word 
to  Miss  Fletcher,"  said  the  Scotchman  in  a  tone  of 
peculiar  dryness.  The  cigar  ceased  to  move.  "  I 
doot  she's  no  over-fond  o'  adveece,  for  she's  a  head- 
strong leddy,  but  it's  a  true  word.  Tell  her,  from 
Alexander  Proudfoot,  she  has  an  enemy  in  the 
deestrict  wi'  an  ill  tongue." 

"  Who  is  it  ?  "  asked  Hazell  quickly. 

"  A  puir  creature  enough,  but  for  the  malice  o' 
him,  and  but  for  the  love  o'  the  human  heart 
hearin'  evil  o'  their  nabors." 

"  A  man,  then  ?  " 

"  Ay.  A  daunderin'  wastrel,  a  sundowner  by's 
luiks." 

"A  rat,  a  mere  ha'porth  of  manhood,  with  a 


HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE  129 

crafty  gallows  face,  all  blotches  ?  "  asked  the  squat- 
ter vehemently. 

"  The  verra  mon !  "  answered  Proudfoot. 

"  I  guessed  it.  He  calls  himself  Luke  Rennard. 
It  was  he  who  loafed  a  week  at  my  expense  because 
his  hands  were  inflamed  with  burrs.  I  told  him  to 
go.  He  replied  with  some  scurrile  insolence  about 
— Miss  Fletcher.  I  laid  my  whip  across  his  shoul- 
ders and  sent  him  flying.  Does  he  scatter  his  ac- 
cusation broadcast  ?  Where  is  he  ?  " 

"  I  dinna  keer  where  he  is.  He  spoke  openly  and 
with  many  details  during  a  nicht  or  twa  in  the 
Swan  with  Two  Necks.  Now,  there  is  no  reason, 
Master  Hazell,  but  quite  the  contrary,  that  this 
man's  licht  word  should  be  taken  against  a  leddy 
weel  known  and  respectit  in  the  town;  but — she 
has  beauty,  Master  Hazell,  and  she's  prood  and  su- 
peerior,  and  bides  aloof,  and  there's  those  that  canna 
forgie  mon  or  woman  that  bides  aloof.  If  ye're  a 
friend  o'  hers " 

"I  hope  I  am,"  Hazell  interrupted.  "At  all 
events,  I  shall  see  to  it  that  this  scoundrel  is  brought 
to  book.  I  feel,  you  see,  in  a  measure  responsible 
for  him,  as  it  was  on  my  land  she  came  in  contact 
with  him,  and  I  have  a  special  hatred  for  slander 
and  gossip  of  every  degree.  I  would  make  the 
ninth  commandment  as  vital  as  the  seventh,  Mr. 
Proudfoot,  and  it  should  be  held  as  much  every 
man's  duty  to  hunt  down  a  backbiter  as  it  now  is  to 
disclose  a  murder.  I  believe,  indeed,  that  there 
have  been  more  broken  hearts  from  false  witness 
than  from  murder." 


130  HEAKTS  IMPOETUNATE 

A  family  drove  up  the  street  in  a  one-horse  cart 
and  stopped  before  them.  The  father  got  down  and 
advanced  on  the  general  store,  three  or  four  chil- 
dren, aged  from  two  to  seven  years,  presided  over 
the  reins  and  the  jaded  steed.  HazelPs  cigar  went 
out.  He  threw  it  away,  chose  another,  and  puffed 
hastily,  without  refinement  of  savour.  "A  kittle 
pair,"  thought  Proudfoot;  and  as  the  squatter 
mounted  his  shining  grey,  and  took  the  street  at  an 
impressive  trot,  he  added  to  himself:  "A  braw 
pair."  For,  inasmuch  as  they  had  stood  together  in 
good  sympathy  by  the  grave  of  his  daughter,  the 
old  man  hoped  that  they  might  walk  together  in 
full  sympathy  while  life  should  last. 

HazelPs  expansive  mood  had  received  no  check. 
His  purpose  was  quickened  to  a  yet  sharper  point 
by  confirmation  of  Avis's  need  of  a  champion 
against  an  envious  and  false  world.  A  few  hours, 
perhaps  less,  and  he  would  have  the  right  to  hunt 
the  lion,  or  spear  the  windmill,  or  sue  the  libellous 
for  her  sake,  and  his  heart  was  glad  at  the  prospect. 
Chiefly,  however,  his  mind  was  in  possession  of  one 
image,  which  had  occupied  it  since  its  first  impres- 
sion— her  face  in  its  moment  of  softening,  its  extra- 
ordinary sweetness,  and  its  ivory  set  in  gold,  with 
eyes  that  drew  his  soul  from  his  own  keeping — at 
this  particular  mental  stage  the  image  was  entirely 
sufficient. 

The  sun  was  hot,  the  day  superb,  with  light 
southerly  airs,  cool,  which  stirred  the  odour  of  the 
wattle-trees,  blooming  in  their  fairy  way  wherever 
they  had  leave  to  stand.  Wattle  is  not  necessary 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  131 

for  stock-breeding;  its  value  is  aesthetic  and  ro- 
mantic— a  value  which  is  small  in  the  eyes  of  him 
who  clears  the  primeval  forest  for  a  living.  The 
lover  in  his  gloriousness,  giving  tribute  to  its  loveli- 
ness, resolved  to  spare  it  generously,  and  to  plant  it 
liberally  in  groves  above  the  house,  because  its 
crown  was  golden  like  her  own ;  more,  he  gave  a 
kindly  thought  to  the  cockatoos  as  they  screeched 
at  intervals  above  him,  because  they  also  had  a  yel- 
low crest — such  was  the  youthful  extravagance  of 
his  mood  as  he  rode  to  bliss. 

Avis  awaited  his  coming  in  a  mood  compounded 
of  a  score  of  moods,  as  stormy  as  complex.  She 
knew  he  would  come ;  she  was  thankful  it  had  not 
been  sooner.  Yet  she  was  no  nearer  readiness  to 
meet  him  than  on  the  evening  after  their  parting, 
when  she  had  been  driven  as  devious,  as  powerless, 
as  a  rudderless  vessel  on  a  jumbled  sea.  Had  he 
spoken  definitely  on  the  polo-ground,  she  would 
have  given  herself  to  him  without  an  instant's  ques- 
tion; but  there  had  been  a  week  of  thought,  and 
she  was  in  a  fever  of  indecision.  Sometimes  in  its 
progress  she  had  felt  as  though  she  could  never  feel 
anything  again  ;  her  nerves  lay  numb  with  exhaus- 
tion. Then,  again,  memory,  conviction,  pride,  re- 
morse, resentment,  longing,  would  recommence  their 
furious  concert,  till  she  thought  her  reason  would 
give  way.  She  loved  him — that  was  a  fact  for  facing, 
if  one  can  be  said  to  face  an  avalanche,  before  which 
flight  is  the  only  wisdom ;  and  she  hated  herself 
for  loving  him,  for  she  had  never  permitted  herself 
an  instant's  contemplation  of  the  possibility  of  lov- 


132  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

ing  any  man — self-respect,  justice,  forbade  it.  That 
some  man  should  one  day  love  her  hopelessly  to 
torment,  even  to  death,  that  she  had  imagined  in 
exalted  moments,  and  it  had  seemed  a  fair  thing ; 
but  herself  to  love  like  this,  this  was  degradation, 
this  was  horrible  !  She  would  not  do  it ;  there  was 
an  end  of  the  matter.  But  she  did,  and  it  was  only 
a  beginning ;  for  what  was  she,  the  heir  of  all  the 
ages  of  pairing  and  mating,  to  decide  that  the  long, 
long  thread  of  life,  begun,  let  us  say,  no  further 
back  than  Eden,  should  come  to  an  end  in  her  ? 
Life  laughed  at  her  in  her  brain,  in  her  veins,  and 
the  argument  was  never  closed.  If  most  men  were 
bad,  this  man  was  good — if  one  had  cursed,  another 
might  come  to  bless,  and  one  could  not  gallop  for 
ever  through  the  Bush,  and  when  one  had  learned 
to  spin  and  to  play  the  violin,  and  to  shoot  at  a 
mark  and  to  grow  roses,  occasionally  there  came  a 
vision  of  years  when  new  accomplishments  might 
pall,  and  friends  might  cease  for  fewness,  and  the 
colour  should  fade  and  desire  fail — yet  what  right 
had  she  to  take  him  ?  The  question  was  intoler- 
able in  its  bitterness,  and  its  lash  to  her  pride — 
pride  of  a  woman  young,  well-endowed  in  birth 
and  brain  and  person,  and  apt  for  all  the  joy  of  be- 
ing, who  knew  herself  "  not  as  other  girls."  If  he 
understood,  would  he  not  turn  from  her,  though  it 
might  be  with  a  broken  heart  ?  Or,  understanding, 
if  he  claimed  her  still,  in  the  rush  of  passion,  and 
reproached  her  later !  Death  would  be  easier.  Yet 
she  would  have  drunk  her  cup  of  happiness ;  she 
could  die  when  the  reproach  came.  Here  appeared 


HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE  133 

the  tempter,  whispering  that,  husband  or  lover, 
Hazell  need  never  know — who  was  there  to  tell 
him  ?  It  was  an  old  story,  and  vague  at  its  clearest, 
the  right  of  it  in  the  unwavering  keeping  of  one 
only,  her  very  nearest.  Hazell  had  forsworn  the 
world — who  should  tell  him  ?  Silence  would  do 
him  no  wrong.  No  other  man  had  ever  had  her 
love,  so  that  for  him  the  unwasted,  cumulative 
volume  was  deep  enough  and  sweet  enough  to  en- 
rich, to  satisfy,  to  atone,  though  he  were  as  hungry 
as  the  sea  for  the  river.  She  asked  nothing  con- 
cerning his  own  past.  He  wore  a  wedding-ring, 
but  he  had  said  with  violence  that  he  had  no  wife ; 
they  were  therefore  free,  and  whatever  lay  behind 
to  his  account,  she  wrote  it  off  boldly,  and  his  his- 
tory for  her  began  with  their  meeting.  Society 

would  declare But  society  was  a  rotten  fabric, 

built  of  shams,  elaborately  buttressed  up  with  hum- 
bug, existing  only  for  its  dear  existence's  sake — 
what  honest  soul  believed  in  it  ?  Society  !  Heavens  ! 
how  tiny  is  its  kingdom,  and  how  artificial  its  ap- 
paratus, when  one  faces  the  great  world  of  seed- 
time and  harvest,  of  sun  and  stars,  of  the  earth- 
quakes that  break  the  mountains,  of  the  millions  of 
swarming  things  that  have  their  being  in  a  sum- 
mer !  Yet  to  us,  born  in  and  of  it,  human  society 
is  more  real  than  the  earthquake. 

Avis  Fletcher  could  no  more  pass  its  moral  limits 
than,  while  she  lived  among  her  own  kind,  she 
could  get  beyond  its  recognition.  She  felt  it  im- 
possible that  she  should  go  to  the  man  she  loved 
under  what  her  own  society  would  consider  false 


134  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

pretences.  There  must  be  no  shadow  between 
them;  yet  what  if  the  substance  must  be  relin- 
quished with  the  shadow  ?  If  he  shrank  from  her  ? 
He  would  not  shrink.  He  was  welling  toward  her 
on  the  crest  of  the  wave  ;  he  had  shouldered  up  and 
stood  beside  her  against  the  world — tiny  enough, 
but  the  world  for  all  that.  But  if  she  were  not 
worthy  of  him  ?  Had  she  any  right  to  give  him 
anything  short  of  the  best  a  woman  might  be  ? 
Was  he  not  deserving  of  the  choicest  ?  and,  much 
as  she  had  to  gain,  would  she  not  give  most  truly 
by  denying  herself  to  him,  him  to  herself  ?  But 
the  denial  would  kill  her.  Oh,  that  such  a 
dilemma  was  hers !  How  had  she  sinned  in  the 
sight  of  Heaven  that  it  had  decreed  to  her  so  in- 
tolerable a  fate  ? 

The  days  passed,  the  nights  in  alternate  anguish 
and  torpor,  with  odd,  brief  periods  of  unresisted 
sweetness  when  she  drifted  in  the  memory  of  his 
eyes,  his  smile,  his  worshipping,  protecting  pres- 
ence. Yisions  of  Death,  always  in  tempting  con- 
trast to  the  young,  the  strong,  the  keenly  living, 
visited  her,  and  places  of  flight,  of  new  beginnings 
in  another  country,  thoughts  of  home  and  her 
mother's  tenderness;  yet  all  the  time,  like  some 
water-plant,  whose  head  upon  the  surface  waves 
and  tones  with  a  thousand  airs,  the  heart,  the 
foundations  of  her  nature,  were  fixed  and  rooted 
far  down  immovably  in  the  being  of  the  man  she 
loved,  about  whom,  among  a  million  doubts,  she 
had  no  doubt  at  all. 


CHAPTEK  XI 

ON  the  eighth  morning,  when  HazelPs  expectancy 
kept  him  in  perpetual  motion,  nature,  rebellious  at 
prolonged  excitement,  consigned  Avis  to  prolonged 
and  dreamless  sleep.  The  machinery  of  the  body 
is  arranged  for  work,  and  if  it  be  good  sound  ma- 
chinery it  will  at  least  make  an  effort  to  do  its  work 
well,  in  spite  of  a  distracted  soul.  Mrs.  Bolitho, 
creeping  in  with  muffled  stick  to  inspect  the  sleeper 
at  about  the  hour  of  Hazell's  early  lunch,  was  met 
by  a  beautiful,  bright  brown  glance  of  surprise  and 
apology,  and  saw  with  joy  that  the  haggard  face 
was  haggard  no  more,  the  blue  lines  erased,  the 
roundness  restored.  Avis  arose  full  of  the  content 
of  health,  pleased  to  be  alive  and  to  play  about  in 
the  bath,  and  because  the  sun  was  shining,  and  be- 
cause the  climbing  Marechal  Mel  along  the  veran- 
dah was  a  wonder  of  leaves  and  flowers,  and  because 
the  air  was  warm  with  the  odour  of  blooming  stocks. 
Yesterday's  struggle  was  dim  with  the  distance  of 
ages — unreal ;  her  attention  refused  it ;  the  real 
things  were  about  her  in  spring  luxuriance.  To 
breakfast  on  bananas  and  cream,  and  wander  in  the 
orchard,  and  make  a  raid  on  the  kitchen,  and  claim 
to  make  the  butter ;  to  visit  the  stables,  with  a  store 
of  apples  and  sugar  and  a  following  of  children ;  to 
swing  the  children  and  herself  under  the  orchard 
trees  till  all  were  weary  with  laughter  and  move- 

135 


136  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

ment — these  were  the  real  things.  Dull  care  was 
gone ;  nay,  was  it  ever  there  ?  Avis  had  sought 
her  bed  a  wreck,  and  risen  from  it  a  romp,  rich  in 
the  power  of  sleep. 

Fortunately  the  poise  of  the  "Wamagatta  house- 
hold was  not  so  rigid  that  a  romp  should  upset  it. 
The  haleness  of  its  master,  who  had  yet  to  learn  the 
meaning  of  the  word  nerves,  the  light-heartedness 
of  its  mistress,  who  thought  cheerfulness  the  first 
of  Christian  virtues,  were  more  resentful  of  illness 
and  a  sad  countenance  than  of  over-hilarity  and 
roguish  pranks.  When  Avis  had  hidden  his  news- 
paper, crowned  his  hoary  head  with  fresh  vine- 
leaves,  given  over  the  library  and  its  contents  to  the 
rigs  of  an  armful  of  puppies,  and  betaken  herself 
beyond  reach  of  vengeance,  the  old  man  inquired 
of  his  wife  what  the  men  of  New  South  Wales  were 
thinking  of  that  so  much  mettle  went  unyoked. 

"  'Pon  my  word,  my  dear,  though  I  always  pre- 
ferred a  little  woman,  I  think  if  I  had  met  missy 
here  before  I  met  you — I  think — Gad,  I  do ! — she 
would  have  run  me  to  earth." 

"  The  one  unforgiveable  quality  in  a  woman,  so 
far  as  I  know  you,  my  dear,  is  that  she  should  have 
nothing  to  say  for  herself,"  replied  his  wife.  "  Now, 
little  women,  in  a  general  way,  have  the  most  to 
say,  though  one  would  hardly  think  their  tongues 
would  be  comparatively  so  much  smaller  that  they 
should  move  comparatively  so  much  faster." 

There  are  brains  of  moderate  nimbleness  which 
make  exhausting  efforts  to  follow  flights  quicker 
than  their  own ;  there  are  others  of  slower  pace 


HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE  13Y 

which  rest  unmoved  by  any  temptation.  Mr.  Bo- 
litho  had  never  in  his  life  attempted  to  understand 
the  gyrations  of  his  wife's  wit ;  he  admired  from  a 
distance,  himself  in  unconnected  darkness,  as  might 
be  a  spectacle  of  fireworks. 

Caradon,  the  manager-son,  put  in  an  appearance 
at  lunch-time,  ready  with  his  weekly  account  of 
stewardship.  Of  his  wife,  who  was  with  him,  her 
mother-in-law  said  always  that  she  was  the  plainest 
good-looking  girl  of  her  acquaintance.  She  was 
languid  with  a  superabundance  of  slender  inches, 
her  eyes  and  features  unremarkable,  her  colouring 
curiously  dead,  her  voice  slow  and  soft.  She  was 
cool,  she  was  graceful,  she  was  an  artist  in  the  mat- 
ter of  her  own  clothing.  Good  money  from  good 
silver  mines  had  given  her  every  advantage  of  edu- 
cation and  travel.  By  arrangement  with  her  hus- 
band before  marriage,  they  visited  Sydney  twice  a 
year,  and  treated  themselves  invariably  to  the  Cup 
week  in  Melbourne.  With  such  assistance,  she  en- 
dured without  complaint  the  monotony  of  Wama- 
gatta.  The  weekly  visit  to  headquarters  in  this  in- 
stance was  lively  with  a  detail  of  welcome  news. 

"  We  have  got  Naboth's  vineyard  at  last,  sir," 
said  Caradon  loudly  to  his  father. 

"Eh,  what? — Naboth's  vineyard?  Ton  my 
honour,  my  dear!"  returned  the  old  gentleman 
briskly. 

"  Spencer,"  cried  his  wife,  "  we  may  die  contented. 
But  when,  Caradon — how  did  you  manage  it  ?  " 

"  Old  Puddick  is  dead  at  last,  mother— that's  how 
it  is ;  and  Crawley,  knowing,  of  course,  that  we  had 


138  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

been  coveting  the  land  for  years,  offered  it  to  Ahab 
(you  observe  I  don't  say  to  Jezebel,  ma'am)  before 
putting  it  into  the  market." 

"  Bravo ! "  cried  Avis. 

"  If  I  were  called  Jezebel  by  my  eldest  son,"  said 
the  mistress  of  the  house,  "  he  or  I  should  die — 
probably  he ;  but  you  may  thank  me,  all  of  you, 
and  I  hope  you  know  it.  How  much  civility  do  you 
suppose  you  would  have  met  with  from  a  grasping 
old  cantanker  like  that  if  I  had  not  given  him  cut- 
tings of  all  my  best  roses !  " 

"  Bow — bow — bow  to  the  mother-in-law  elect !  " 
sang  Josephine,  the  daughter-in-law,  with  mild 
irreverence,  and  bobbed  her  husband's  head  as  she 
did  so. 

"  Reverence  your  lord,  Pheenie,"  the  young  man 
demanded,  continuing :  "  Of  course,  mother  dear, 
we  all  recognise  you  as  the  goddess,  not  the  ma- 
chinery, at  Wamagatta ;  but,  notwithstanding  the 
cuttings,  I  guess  it  occurred  to  our  friend  Publican 
Crawley  that  he  would  get  a  better  price  from 
Ahab  than  out  of  the  world  that  bids  at  mar- 
kets." 

"There  wasn't  an  improvement  in  the  whole 
640  acres,"  said  Avis,  "  unless  you  call  a  slab  hut  in 
tatters,  a  score  of  shallow  old  gold  shafts,  and  a  plot 
of  old  unpruned  run-to-flower-and-wood  peach-trees 
'  improvements.' " 

"  Crawley  called  them  so,"  said  Caradon  dryly. 
"  He  didn't  seem  to  think  that  land  values  had  de- 
preciated lately,  nor  that  a  square  mile  on  the  top 
of  a  ridge,  approached  by  a  bridle-track  mostly  per- 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  139 

pendicular,  was  otherwise  than  a  desirable  residen- 
tial spot." 

"  I  doubt  Crawley's  been  too  sharp  for  you,  my 
boy,"  remarked  his  father. 

"  Well,  sir,  I  don't  say  that ;  but  I  knew  that  if  I 
let  pass  this  long-wished-for  opportunity  of  getting 
in  the  vineyard  and  squaring  off  the  run  to  the  top 
of  the  ridge,  I  need  never  approach  Mrs.  Bolitho 
any  more.  I  remembered  that  the  property  was 
not  entailed ;  that  I  was  rather  old  to  learn  another 
trade,  and  that  Pheenie's  silver  was  not  what  it 
used  to  be.  Cold  rice,  Avis,  please,  and  a  bit  of 
the  angelica  ih  it." 

"  What's  the  figure,  my  boy  ?  "  said  Mr.  Bolitho. 

"No  business  at  the  lunch-table,  Spencer.  I 
don't  allow  it,"  interrupted  his  wife,  seeing  that 
her  son  was  minded  to  cherish  his  secret  and  play 
the  tease.  "  Digestion  before  everything.  Naboth's 
vineyard  is  ours.  Yes,  Pheenie,  I  will  trouble  you 
for  the  cream  ;  my  heart  is  that  light  that  nothing 
will  lie  heavy  on  it." 

"The  gentility  of  Aunty  Bolitho!"  said  Avis. 
"  Heart,  indeed  !  " 

"  Put  no  money  on  the  lightness  of  any  portion 
of  my  maternal  inside  till  she  has  heard  the  figure," 
said  Caradon,  longing  to  refuse  it. 

"  So  lucky  there  is  no  entail,"  said  Mrs.  Bolitho, 
in  a  meditative  way ;  "  we  can  afford  to  make  an 
effort  now  and  then."  Her  son  shook  his  fist  at 
her.  "  Spencer,  we  must  begin  clearing  at  once, 
before  the  weather  gets  too  bad ;  I  should  like  to 
see  a  dozen  men  there." 


140  HEAETS  IMPOKTUNATE 

"  Three  went  up  to-day  with  a  horse  and  chain," 
said  her  son  calmly. 

"  Spencer,  it  appears  we  keep  loafers  about  the 
place  waiting  for  the  gum-trees  to  grow  up " 

"  Caradon  is  armed  at  every  point.  Such  mush- 
room pride  must  die,"  said  Avis.  "Caradon,  I'll 
race  you  on  Hajji  up  to  the  heights  of  Naboth's 
vineyard  this  afternoon,  for  a  couple  of  pairs  of 
driving  gloves." 

"  Done !  Hajji !  Hajji  fresh  against  my  poor 
Digger  is  hardly  fair,  but  I'll  take  you  for  the 
honour  of  my  sex,"  replied  Caradon.  "  What  days 
are  these  when  woman  enters  the  'field  against 
man ! " 

"Always  been  the  same,  but  when  Atalanta 
stoops  to  pick  up  the  wedding-ring,  man  wins  in  a 
canter ! "  It  was  one  of  Mr.  Bolitho's  oldest  and 
best  jokes,  and  he  brought  it  out  in  his  bluff est  and 
best  manner. 

Every  one  smiled.  The  reception  of  the  invaria- 
ble joke  is  the  finest  test  of  the  place  of  age  in  af- 
fection. 

"  It's  a  stoop  for  Atalanta,"  said  Avis.  "  As  the 
only  unmarried  person  present,  I  say  it  boldly.  No 
one  please  amend  that  she  stoops  to  conquer." 

"  As  the  only  unmarried  person  present,  you  are 
the  only  one  who  can't  give  an  opinion  on  the  wed- 
ding action,"  said  Josephine,  softly  drawling. 

"  Hath  not  a  spinster  eyes  ?  Do  you  suppose  I 
haven't  watched  her?"  returned  Avis.  "The  fe- 
male head  at  the  altar  hangs  abased." 

"  Silly  convention ;  no  meaning  in  it,"  said  Mrs. 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  141 

Bolitho.  "  The  wedding-ring  is  applied  to  the  nose, 
by  which  every  poor  married  woman  is  led.  I 
speak  from  experience,  and  I  dare  you,  Spencer,  to 
contradict  me." 

"  Eh,  what,  my  dear  ?   Talk  so  fast,  all  of  you " 

"  Spare  my  father's  conscience,  mother,  please.  I 
remember  the  pair  of  you  all  my  life,  and  the  way 
of  you.  Ever  seen  a  big  blind  beggar  being  borne 
along  home  by  a  small,  broad,  vigorous  dog  ?  Seen 
the  beggar  trot,  nearly  pulled  over  by  the  dog? 
Dog  forging  ahead  for  all  he's  worth.  There, 
ladies,  you  have  seen  the  matrimonial  progress  of 
my  parents." 

"  My  stick,  Pheenie,  I  beg ;  it  has  fallen  by  your 
chair.  I  have  lunched,"  said  Mrs.  Bolitho,  and  rose 
from  the  table  with  dignity. 

They  went  out  to  the  verandah.  Caradon  re- 
sumed the  almost  incessant  pipe,  his  father  the  al- 
most incessant  nap. 

"  If  I  were  asked  to  define  man,"  said  Avis,  "  I 
should  say  that  he  is  a  creature  which  takes  its 
leisure  in  narcosis." 

"  It's  a  survival  of  chivalry,"  said  Mrs.  Bolitho — 
"  a  voluntary  handicap  in  the  race  with  women's 
wit." 

"Rather,  it's  assumed  to  deaden  the  pangs  of 
conscious  inferiority,"  said  Avis. 

"Avis,"  remarked  Josephine  deliberately,  "you 
really  will  be  an  old  maid.  No  man  will  marry  a 
girl  who  knows  his  inferiority." 

"  He  naturally  prefers  one  who  has  to  learn  it," 
she  answered,  laughing. 


142  HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE 

Caradon  hung  on  to  his  amber  tube  with  a  con- 
descending smile,  hiding,  as  often  before,  some  fear 
of  the  golden  damsel  who  had  such  winged  words 
for  the  young  not  of  her  own  sex. 

"  I  think,  Avis,"  said  Josephine  in  her  penetrat- 
ing, unhurried  tones,  "  that  you  honestly  dislike  all 
men  under  seventy." 

"  The  mass  of  men  under  seventy  shall  combine 
to  make  that  impossible,"  said  a  strong,  mellow 
voice  quickly,  coming  from  the  house  behind  them, 
and  Hazell  appeared,  masterful,  smiling,  gladness 
in  every  line  of  him.  He  looked  at  Avis,  and  drew 
a  deep  breath,  as  though  to  inhale  the  perfume  of 
the  air,  and  then  moved  round  briskly,  greeting  all 
but  her.  He  could  not  bring  himself  to  offer  his 
hand,  when  his  arms  were  straining  to  embrace  her 
before  all  the  world,  nor,  now  that  he  saw  her  again 
and  their  eyes  had  met,  was  there  need  for  the  mo- 
ment of  any  gesture.  She  stood  without  the  small- 
est stir.  Her  heart  seemed  still  within  her,  as 
though  with  its  wild  leap  at  the  sound  of  his  voice 
it  had  gone  to  his  keeping,  leaving  her  inert.  Yet 
she  also  smiled,  as  though  at  the  ordinary  pleasant 
words  that  passed  about  her  ears,  an  unconscious 
smile  of  softening,  with  the  eyelids  drooping  over 
unseeing  brownness,  and  the  features  which  her 
friends  would  know  as  keen  or  proud  or  eager, 
tender  with  unreasoned  content. 

Mrs.  Bolitho,  attentive  to  them  both,  made  a  men- 
tal bow  of  relinquishment  and  subsided  into  her  sat- 
isfaction. The  mountain  had  come  to  Mahomet; 
the  man  to  Avis.  "And  may  I  be  whipped," 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  143 

thought  the  vivacious  lady,  "  if  ever  I  saw  a  pair 
more  seriously  in  love ! " 

There  was  some  talk  of  stock — inevitable  in  a 
sheep-breeding  community — and  Hazell  acquitted 
himself  well,  sufficiently  interested  in  the  prospects 
of  shearing  and  the  proposed  planting  of  salt-bush 
as  a  cheap  and  drought-proof  fodder.  The  master 
of  the  house  awoke,  and  recognising  his  guest 
chiefly  as  a  man  who  knew  Cornwall,  entered  upon 
a  description  of  a  steeplechase  of  his  youth,  to  which 
Hazell  was  sympathetic. 

"  What  about  our  race  ?  "  inquired  Caradon,  as 
time  passed ;  and  it  was  agreed  that  the  four  younger 
people  should  hie  to  Naboth's  vineyard  when  forti- 
fied by  the  afternoon  cup  of  tea. 

Mrs.  Bolitho  entered  upon  Avis  changing  her 
clothes  for  riding,  and  put  her  arms  about  her 
fondly. 

"  Don't  break  your  neck,  dear  child ! "  she  cried. 
"  Don't  break  your  neck.  Enjoy  your  ride,  and 
come  back  safe  to  your  old  Australian  mother. 
Kiss  me,  darling ! " 

The  two  embraced  with  an  enthusiasm  which 
they  made  no  pretence  of  explaining.  There  were 
tears  in  Mrs.  Bolitho's  eyes  as  she  watched  the  party 
off ;  she  felt  as  though  her  girl  were  at  the  altar. 

Hazell's  patience  was  tested  by  the  race.  Two 
only  were  in  the  lists,  and  he  had  not  come  to  talk 
conventionalities  to  indifferent  persons,  and  he 
found  himself  full  of  anxiety  lest  some  dire  thing 
should  befall  Diana  in  her  wild  career.  The  Arab 
was  superb,  as  wise  as  a  human  being,  that  he  could 


144  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

see ;  but  if  he  and  his  rider  should  yield  themselves 
to  the  fever  of  the  chase  ?  The  miles  were  rough, 
uphill  and  downhill,  with  gates  to  open  and  creeks 
to  cross,  and,  he  heard,  a  monstrous  rocky  height 
by  way  of  finish ;  and  it  was  all  very  well  for  men 
to  risk  their  skulls  in  polo  and  such-like,  but  a  lady 
— this  lady — it  was  insane.  He  chafed  inwardly. 
He  dismounted  at  the  starting-point,  insisting  on 
an  examination  of  girths ;  and  though  he  knew  she 
would  await  him  at  the  end,  he  saw  the  two  off  to- 
gether with  fear  and  envy. 

"  We  meet  at  Puddick's  rail,"  said  Avis  in  fare- 
well. 

"  She'll  win,"  Josephine  declared  as  they  followed, 
cantering  leisurely.  "  Hajji  is  perfectly  fresh,  and 
Digger  couldn't  touch  him  anyhow.  I  never  race 
— too  like  hard  work." 

"  You  don't  like  hard  work  ?  How  far  is  Pud- 
dick's rail?" 

"Three  miles  or  so — scarcely  more.  You  have 
to  make  its  acquaintance,  of  course.  It  has  rather 
a  gruesome  story  attached  to  it,  which,  I  suppose, 
will  cling  to  it  forever." 

"Tell  me,  please,"  Hazell  returned,  glad  of  a 
topic  to  hand. 

"Well,  Puddick  was  an  old  fellow  who  had  a 
life-lease  of  these  particular  640  acres  which  Mr. 
Bolitho  has  so  much  coveted.  It  belonged  to 
Crawley,  the  publican,  Swan  with  Two  Necks,  in 
Beulah.  I  dare  say  you  know  it.  As  a  matter  of 
fact — it's  rather  an  open  secret  hereabouts,  as  these 
sort  of  things  are — he  had  done  a  bit  of  *  dummy- 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  145 

ing '  for  Crawley  in  the  early  days  of  the  Robert- 
son Act.  You  may  have  heard  of  it." 

Hazell  had  heard. 

"  Did  Crawley,  then,  own  land  as  well  as  a  tavern  ?  " 

"  Crawley  began  as  a  squatter,  I  believe  he  be- 
gan as  a  kind  of  gentleman,  but  many  things  con- 
trived to  ruin  him,  principally,  I  dare  say,  the  sort 
of  taste  that  makes  a  public-house  attractive.  Any 
way,  he  sold  any  rood  he  had  ever  possessed  except 
this,  that  he  had  promised  to  Puddick  for  his  life ; 
and  Puddick  somehow  wouldn't  die,  and  we  used 
to  think  my  father-in-law  would  go  first,  without 
seeing  his  heart's  desire — Wamagatta  square  up  to 
the  Northern  Road " 

"  Watched  pots,"  suggested  Hazell. 

"  Yes ;  and  the  wretched  creature  had  some  hor- 
rible complaint,  for  which,  they  say,  he  would  have 
no  advice,  which  caused  him  constant  pain,  and  it 
appears  he  could  get  relief  only  by  hanging  over 
something,  with  his  waist — what  in  me  would  be 
Avaist — pressed  against  something.  And  there  he 
would  stay  day  after  day,  head  and  arms  hanging 
down  on  one  side,  legs  on  the  other,  with  the  sun 
beating  on  him.  I've  often  seen  him — dreadful 
grotesque  kind  of  figure ! " 

"  By  Jove !  if  that  rail  could  speak ! "  said  Hazell. 
"  Did  he  live  alone  ?  " 

"  Quite  alone.  Had  a  cow  and  some  fowls,  and  a 
horse  and  cart,  and  no  other  visible  means  of  sup- 
port. So  many  people  in  the  Bush  are  like  that — 
human  orchids,  Mrs.  Bolitho  says — live  on  air  and 
sunlight,  and  very  little  else  that  one  can  see." 


146  HEAETS  IMPOETUNATE 

"  I  value  the  suggestion,"  said  Hazell.  "  I  can 
work  out  a  chain  of  enlightenment.  Orchid :  lily 
of  the  field ;  Solomon's  lilies,  which  toil  not,  neither 
spin — small  selector.  I  have  often  wondered  lately 
whether  it  was  not  my  duty  as  a  magistrate  to  ar- 
rest on  a  charge  of  vagrancy  stationary  personages 
with  no  visible  means  of  subsistence." 

"  I  am  sure  it's  not  your  duty.  You  are  not  in 
your  crowded  Old  World.  People  have  a  right 
here  not  to  subsist,  if  they  don't  want  to.  It  would 
be  more  for  the  public  welfare  if  you  had  the  rail 
destroyed.  Puddick's  ghost  will  haunt  it." 

"  When  I  have  seen  it — not  before,  please.  My 
experience  does  not  contain  a  ghost.  I  will  cer- 
tainly order  a  bonfire." 

"  There  will  certainly  be  a  ghost.  I  can  imagine 
it.  Some  close  cloudy  night,  when  the  morepork  is 
rasping  one's  nerves  to  madness,  old  Puddick  will 
be  seen  hanging  over  the  broken  fence,  stiff,  black 
fingers  spread  out  pointing  downwards,  not  a  move- 
ment about  him — dead  to  the  world.  I  have  seen 
the  poor  wretch  so  heaps  of  times.  Ugh !  I  can 
see  him  now !  Suppose  we  gallop." 

They  found  the  gates  open  that  lay  in  their  way, 
the  racers  having  relied  on  their  following.  Hazell 
was  relieved  that  Avis  had  not  thought  fit  to  jump 
the  fences.  The  ridge  of  hills  lay  dark  and  high 
between  them  and  the  sunset,  and  they  mounted 
slowly,  the  horses,  surefooted  and  practised,  climb- 
ing laboriously,  with  many  a  slip,  and  much  hollow 
and  ringing  sound  of  stumbling  hoofs  up  the  rocks, 
the  riders  gripping  closely,  and  swerving  sometimes 


HEAETS  IMPOKTUNATE  14T 

almost  to  the  saddle  to  avoid  over-reaching  and  out- 
standing boughs. 

"Kather  rash,  racing,"  said  Hazell  the  wooer 
anxiously. 

"  That's  the  fun  of  it,"  said  Josephine  the  wan 
carelessly. 

As  they  went,  the  lover  resolved  that,  if  merciful 
Heaven  had  preserved  his  lady  through  such  peril, 
an  opportunity  of  private  speech  should  be  his, 
though  he  had  to  lead  her  openly  by  the  bridle  to  a 
decent  distance.  It  was  an  added  difficulty  that  the 
other  two  were  married,  and  as  such  could  not 
politely  be  left  together ;  but  there  are  moments 
when  politeness  fails.  Hazell's  eager  heart  urged 
his  tired  grey  against  the  studied  restraint  of  his 
hand,  and  once  or  twice  he  was  fain  to  stop  and 
await  his  leisurely  companion,  whose  fancy,  matri- 
monially fixed,  roamed  only  at  leisure.  No  man- 
gled corpse  lay  in  their  way.  They  gained  a  small 
green  clearing,  somewhat  small  in  surrounding 
hillocks,  where  a  small  slab  hut  of  the  most 
neglected  sort  lay  among  traces  of  what  had  once 
been  a  garden.  The  bark  roof  hung  in  unbroken 
strips,  a  grove  of  fruit-trees,  years  untended,  was 
thick  in  leaf ;  clumps  of  white  irises  bloomed  freely. 
A  little  way  before  the  open  door  a  remnant  of 
fencing  supplied  the  rail  palliative  for  Puddick's 
anguish.  A  waste  of  ring-barked  gum-trees  stood 
around,  and  occasional  columns  of  smoke  of  varying 
volume,  rising  with  flame  that  showed  itself  in 
quivering  waves  against  the  sinking  sun,  declared 
the  work  of  Caradon's  men  among  the  timber. 


148  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

"  The  ghost  has  taken  them,"  Hazell  exclaimed, 
seeing  no  human  thing. 

"  It  has  left  Hajji,  though,"  said  Josephine,  point- 
ing to  the  left.  "  Miss  Fletcher  won't  be  far.  Oh, 
there's  my  husband  on  the  other  side ;  they  are 
stoking  stumps — fascinating  work,  so  dirty  !  "  She 
turned  to  the  right. 

"  Are  we  to  stoke  stumps  too  ?  " 

"  Of  course.  It's  a  joy  that  never  palls,  and,  un- 
like most  joys,  it's  productive  of  good.  I  haven't 
burnt  off  for  an  age." 

"  Full  moon  to-night ;  we  can  make  it  an  oppor- 
tunity to  wait  for  her  coming,"  said  Hazell  artfully, 
imagining  a  long  forest  solitude  with  Avis. 

"  Yes ;  we  can  go  back  round  by  the  road,"  she 
answered. 

He  paused  a  moment.  She  strayed  toward  her 
husband. 

He  seized  the  chance  and  made  for  the  point 
where  a  dark  figure  was  busy  among  mounting 
smoke.  At  last,  there  would  be  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
between  them  and  the  world.  At  last ! 

Avis,  her  habit  caught  up,  stood  feeding  with 
smaller  wood  a  great  smouldering  stump,  from 
which  the  large  trunk,  dead  long  ago,  had  burnt 
and  fallen  away,  and  lay,  also  smouldering  at  the 
break,  in  the  smash  of  its  branches.  He  halted 
Glaucus  by  Hajji,  and  advanced  to  her  on  feet  that 
felt  no  touch  of  earth. 

"  Who  won  ? "  he  asked  her,  in  a  voice  that 
thrilled. 

"Hajji,  of  course,"  she  answered,  without  any 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  149 

sign  of  surprise,  as  though  she  had  expected  him. 
"  Please  help  me,  Mr.  Hazell.  This  kind  of  iron- 
hard  stump  will  take  a  dozen  lightings  and  eat  up 
half  an  acre  of  sticks — a  most  obstinate  kind.  I 
want  to  bank  it  up  with  really  solid  logs,  and  keep 
the  fire  in  till  it  gets  right  under.  Then  it's  pretty 
safe.  Do  you  mind  hauling  about  heavy  logs  ?  " 

"  I  don't  mind  anything,"  he  answered,  but  he 
wished  her  to  look  at  him.  Hers  was  a  splendid 
figure,  pliantly  stooping.  The  thick  wave  of  her 
hair,  dropped  sweeping  over  the  rim  of  a  crisply 
curled  ear,  was  beautiful  to  see,  but  he  wanted  the 
fulness  of  her  eyes,  that  he  might  hold  them  while 
he  told  her  what  he  had  come  to  tell.  Temporis- 
ing, he  followed  her  directing  finger,  and  grappled 
with  a  mighty  limb  of  the  fallen  tree,  lugging  it 
bravely  into  desired  position  well  up  to  the  stump. 

"  Short  of  a  deluge  of  rain,  that  is  safe,"  said 
Avis.  "Another  one  of  the  same  kind,  if  your 
charity  goes  so  far,  for  this  great  gum  here.  The 
men  don't  know  as  much  about  burning  off  as  I  do 
— newly  imported  Irish  loafers,  I  dare  say;  they 
have  gone  down  to  the  station  for  supplies  of  some 
sort,  I  believe.  Fancy  knocking  oif  work  for  the 
night  with  half  your  fires  bound  to  go  out  in  the 
course  of  it !  Paid  labour,  of  course " 

"  Labour  must  be  paid,"  said  Hazell,  rushing  in  to 
interrupt  the  baffling  flow  of  her  words.  "  What 
else  is  it  for  ?  All  men  want  payment  of  some  sort. 
Do  you  remember  the  first  evening — about  sunset, 
with  the  moon  due  much  as  it  is  now — when  you 
came  into  my  bachelor  loneliness  and  drank  my 


150  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

tea  ?  I  asked  payment  then.  Now  you  set  me  to 
cart  about  logs  for  you — much  harder  work.  I 
want  higher  payment!"  His  voice  startled  her; 
she  looked  at  him.  an  instant.  The  glance  swept 
him  headlong  into  declaration :  "  Then  a  sight  of 
your  golden  head  was  more  than  enough ;  now — 
oh,  now,  I  am  asking  for  your  golden  self !  Avis ! 
Avis  !  yourself,  Avis  ! " 

There  was  nothing  in  the  world  for  Avis  but  his 
voice  and  its  deep  vibrant  call,  and  his  palm  out- 
stretched impulsively.  Quicker  than  thought  was 
her  action ;  without  a  word  she  gave  her  hand  into 
his,  and  he  clasped  it  as  though  his  life  lay  in  it,  and 
shouted  "  Ha ! "  Then,  drawing  closer,  urged : 

"  For  ever  and  ever,  Avis !    Look  at  me  and  say  so." 

She  paused  a  moment,  then  turned  her  face  to 
his,  pride  in  the  freedom  of  the  gesture,  and  told 
him,  clear  and  sweet : 

"  For  ever  and  ever,  Ralph ! " 

Her  head  upon  his  shoulder  was  lighter  than  a 
dream  kiss ;  the  clasp  of  her  fingers  round  his  was 
as  tremulous  and  close  as  a  child's  might  be.  She 
yielded  to  the  strain  of  his  embrace  most  exquis- 
itely gentle — the  unique,  warm,  snowflake  gentle- 
ness of  a  woman  who  loves  and  surrenders.  He 
lost  consciousness  and  drifted  into  the  unreasoning 
flood  of  triumphant  being. 

"  But  the  others !  "  she  cried,  recollecting,  disen- 
gaging herself. 

"  They've  done  it  themselves,"  he  answered,  keep- 
ing her  hand  tight. 

"  Not  in  my  sight ! " 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  151 

He  looked  round.  "They're  entirely  absorbed 
with  their  fires,  and  the  light  is  failing." 

"  All  the  more  reason  to  work ;  we  can't  stay 
here  indefinitely." 

"But  we  can  stay  with  each  other?"  he  an- 
swered, coaxing,  boyishly;  "that's  for  ever  and 
ever.  Avis,  you've  the  most  charming  name  in  the 
world — Avis ! " 

"Havel,  Ralph?" 

"  Except  mine,  when  you  say  it." 

"  I  want  to  save  that  other  stump.  Draw  up  an- 
other log  for  me." 

"  Hang  the  logs !  I've  so  much  to  say  to  you." 

"  No — please — there's  ever  and  ever  to  say  it  in." 

He  laughed  joyously,  dropped  her  hand  with  an 
air  of  blind  obedience,  and  went  away  a  few  yards 
to  attack  a  fallen  trunk  that  was  quite  beyond  one 
man's  power  to  move. 

"  How  ridiculous  you  are !  Let  me  help  you ! " 
she  cried,  and  placed  herself  at  the  opposite  end. 

Between  them,  straining  every  nerve,  the  timber 
rolled  a  foot  forward. 

"  I  won't  allow  you  to  work  like  a  galley-slave," 
he  objected.  "  I've  loved  you  from  the  first  mo- 
ment I  saw  you,  Avis." 

"  For  goodness'  sake,  Ralph,  have  you  no  lower 
tones  in  your  voice  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  I  want  to  shout.  I  want  all  the  world 
to  know  that  you  are  mine." 

"  I  could  not  live  with  Stentor." 

"  When  all  the  world  knows  it,  I  will  spend  the 
rest  of  my  time  whispering  it  to  you." 


152  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

"  What  a  wasted  life ! "  Avis  laughed,  but  the 
derision  quavered.  "  If  we  could  find  a  couple  of 
strong  sticks,  we  might  lever  this  thing  along  ;  you 
don't  realise  how  quickly  night  falls  in  this  coun- 
try." 

"There  are  all  the  fires,  and  there  will  be  a 
moon,  Avis." 

"  And  it's  a  snaky  time  of  year,  and  the  old  wood 
is  the  chosen  place  of  any  amount  of  dangerous 
reptiles  just  getting  warmed  up.  No,  no,  Ralph. 
Well,  then,  just  one.  Honour  bright — one!  Do 
you  call  that '  one '  ?  Now,  be  sensible,  or  I  shall 
call  for  the  others  to  help." 

The  threat  subdued  him,  and  he  consented  to  go 
away  far  enough  to  cut  a  pair  of  sapling  gums  for 
leverage.  A  faint  shriek  from  Josephine  inquired 
if  they  were  ready  to  descend.  Avis,  laying  violent 
hands  upon  herself,  went  across  the  clearing,  and 
submitted  the  ardour  of  her  partner  as  a  forest- 
clearer,  while  the  air  was  full  of  the  laughter  of 
jackasses,  and  the  redness  of  the  sunset  died  away. 

"  They  have  done  far  more  than  we  have,"  she 
told  Hazell,  coming  back  reproachful,  "  and  I  am 
not  at  all  sure  what  they  think " 

"  Let  'em  think.  When  this  brute  is  alongside 
that  stump,  they  can  hang  diminished  heads.  But 
you  are  never  going  to  do  such  navvy's  work  again, 
Avis  !  Did  you  hear  the  jackasses  ?  I  used  to  dis- 
like them.  Use  makes  them  quaint  and  jolly. 
Here's  your  rod.  Now,  then — are — you — ready  ? 
Ahoy!  ahoy!" 

The  trunk  was  in  place.     Hazell  addressed  his 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  153 

damp  forehead  with  his  handkerchief;  his  com- 
panion, sitting  on  the  conquered  stock,  panted  and 
fanned  herself  with  her  hat.  Darkness  had  fallen 
and  the  evening  chill.  All  around  them  played  the 
fires — some  small  and  low,  as  of  a  camp,  as  if  to 
boil  the  pot ;  others,  as  they  might  be  beacons,  flar- 
ing high  with  deep-piled  boughs,  roared  about  great 
standing  trees  with  cracks  and  snaps,  and  a  con- 
tinual under-sound  of  crepitation.  The  light  shone 
on  the  golden  head  of  Avis. 

"  Avis  Paradisea ! "  said  Hazell.  "  Gold  was  the 
colour  of  the  gods — wasn't  it  ?  I  have  been  rack- 
ing my  brains  lately  for  my  small  classical  recollec- 
tion. I  have  the  gold  fever,  so  appropriate  to  this 
country.  Haven't  they  a  term  of  endearment 
among  the  Greeks — *  chrysion '  ?  " 

"  You  foolish  fellow !  have  you  been  thinking 
about  my  hair  ever  since  that  first  night  ?  " 

Her  voice,  surcharged  with  tenderness,  failed  a 
little  under  its  burden,  and  shook  between  tears 
and  laughter.  She  longed  to  be  alone,  free  from 
adoring  eyes  for  half  an  hour,  that  she  might  realise 
her  happiness,  adjust  her  mental  balance,  decide 
her  future  method  and  manners.  No  thought  more 
serious  crossed  her  mind,  no  doubt  in  moral  or 
social  ethics ;  she  felt  her  heart  bounding  away 
with  her  reason — that  was  all.  She  named  him  a 
foolish  fellow,  and  her  tone  refused  to  convey  dep- 
recation of  his  folly. 

"That  first  night!"  he  repeated.  "Yes,  that 
first  night." 

The  sense  of  it  returned  to  him — the  rattle  of  the 


154  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

jackasses,  the  apparition  of  the  horsewoman,  the 
trifling  hospitality  and  its  return,  the  setting  off  of 
Diana  through  the  moonlit  Bush.  At  the  end  of 
the  train  came  a  memory  of  the  tramp  who  had 
watched  her,  and  Proudfoot's  message  concerning 
him  flashed  into  his  mind.  He  turned  to  her  sud- 
denly, and  asked : 

"  Do  you  happen  to  remember  anything  in  your 
childhood  in  your  country  of  a  farm-labourer  called 
Luke  Rennard  ?  " 

The  question  struck  her  like  a  blow,  and  changed 
the  excitement  of  her  mood  from  joy  to  fury ;  wave 
met  wave,  and  the  meeting  was  the  convulsion  of 
the  eager.  All  the  hundred-head  anguish  of  the 
past  week,  all  the  suffering  of  her  girlhood,  all  her 
rage  and  grudge  against  man  as  man  rushed  back 
upon  her,  and  she  sprang  to  her  feet  to  avenge  the 
insult — to  cast  it  off :  to  cast  him  off. 

"Go!  "she  said— "go!" 

It  was  all  she  could  say.  Her  eyes  blazed  in  her 
white  face ;  her  outstretched  arm  flung  him  away 
to  the  uttermost. 

Hazell  started  forward. 

"What  have  I  done?  Why,"  he  asked,  be- 
wildered, «  Avis  ?" 

"  Dare  to  call  me  Avis !  Nevermore  Avis  to  you ; 
I  defy  your  insult.  Did  you  think  because  I  had 
kissed,  I  was  so  easy  to  kiss  ?  Ah,  I  could  kill 
you ! " 

"  I  have  done  nothing ;  I  meant  nothing — I  swear 
it  before  God  ! "  He  watched  her  features  vary- 
ing in  the  agony  of  struggling  passions.  He  strode 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  155 

to  her,  and  tried  to  take  her  hand.  "  Avis ! "  he 
pleaded. 

She  shrank  away  from  him. 

"  Why,  I  love  you !  "  he  said. 

She  found  words : 

"  You  love  me  !     Go  ! " 

"  I  will  not  go.  Why  should  I  ?  What  is  this 
Rennard  to  you  ?  Tell  me ;  I  insist." 

"  You  insist  on  my  telling  you — now — now — al- 
ready ?  Is  it  to  humiliate  me  ?  But  I  will  be 
humiliated  no  further  than  by  my  one  act  I  am. 
Oh,  I  never  dreamed,  not  when  I  hated  man  most, 
a  man  could  be  so  shameless.  You  came — you 
came  to  kiss,  and  I  kissed  you" — she  could  not 
speak  for  a  second — "  and  you  cannot  wait  a  day  to 
insult — to  insist.  I  would  have  told  you — in  time. 
Is  there  so  much  hurry?  Oh,  the  immeasurable 
meanness  of  you !  Now  you  shall  never  know  any- 
thing from  me,  for  I  hate  you." 

Her  sentences  came  abrupt,  poignant,  concen- 
trated. 

"Why — damnation!  Are  my  ears  playing  me 
false  ?  Just  now  you  kissed  me ! " 

She  faced  him  superbly. 

"  I  did.  I  have  acknowledged  it  already — I 
kissed  you;  and  I  could  brand  you  with  one  of 
these  burning  sticks — brand  you  as  a  coward — be- 
cause I  did  so  ! " 

Hazell  flung  up  his  arms,  a  gesture  of  despera- 
tion. The  riddle  was  beyond  him,  but  there  was 
no  mistaking  the  hatred  of  her  face,  which  seemed 
in  its  whiteness,  as  the  fires  played  their  intermit- 


156  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

tent  light  on  it,  to  stab  him  out  of  the  darkness. 
The  crackling  of  the  consuming  wood  filled  up  the 
pause  after  her  words,  and  a  rising  wind  blowing 
to  them  across  the  clearing  brought  the  sound  of 
whistling.  Caradon  Bolitho  beguiled  his  toil  by 
the  touching  cadences  of  "  Home,  Sweet  Home." 
The  strain  mocked  Hazell.  His  mental  palace  of 
contentment  was  falling  in  ruins  under  this  inex- 
plicable onslaught;  ungovernable  resentment  rose 
in  him. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  he  said,  "  that  women  are  sub- 
ject to  demoniac  possession." 

"  They  are ! "  she  cried,  with  an  upward  jerk  of 
her  head,  and  a  flash  that  promised  vengeance — 
"  they  are  !  and  under  it  they  give  their  reason  and 
their  hearts  to  men,  who  break  and  bruise,  abuse 
and  affront ! " 

"  I  never  yet  abused  nor  affronted  any  woman," 
said  Hazell  savagely ;  "  but  I  may  do  it  still — I 
may  do  it  here  and  now." 

There  was  a  slow  grinding  sound  among  the 
trees.  She  looked  up  quickly,  then  with  both  hands 
pushed  him  from  her  violently,  and  leaped  back 
herself,  just  as  the  long,  ashen,  barren  shaft,  un- 
branched  and  straight,  fell  heavily  between  them, 
and  its  broken  base,  twenty  feet  away,  sparked 
merrily  and  flickered.  She  put  her  hands  before 
her  eyes  an  instant,  as  though  to  shut  out  a  dread- 
ful thought  made  visible.  Hazell's  broad  chest 
heaved.  He  stood  with  feet  apart  and  folded  arms, 
scowling  above  his  fierce  light  gaze. 

"  Why  didn't  you  let  me  die  ?  "  he  snarled. 


HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE  157 

She  almost  screamed. 

"  No,  no !  Not  a  second  time — the  visitation  of 
Heaven — though  you  were — as  you  are — a  greater 
one  than  he  !  But  go ! " 

With  a  hissing  noise  and  a  shower  of  ruddy 
sparks,  flame  and  smoke  burst  forth  from  the  high 
open  mouth  of  a  hollow  tree  not  far  behind,  the 
effect  that  of  a  grotesque  chimney  on  fire;  small 
tongues  licked  the  bare,  jagged  arms  and  the  main 
trunk,  wherever  any  softer  remnant  of  bark  gave 
food  for  them.  A  glittering  rain  of  tiny  particles 
fell  about  Avis,  blown  toward  her.  Loose  hair 
blew  about  her  temples,  and  the  tendrils  of  it  flick- 
ered ;  she  seemed  ever  to  attract  light,  and  in  love 
or  hate  to  give  it  forth.  He  looked  at  her,  fasci- 
nated by  the  proud  beauty  of  her,  repelled  by  her 
inexplicable  insolence  and  cruelty,  dismayed  be- 
yond endurance,  balked,  smarting,  wounded,  and  he 
felt  a  ring  of  forbidding  spread  from  her  to  him,  as 
though  the  very  air  stiffened  to  cast  him  off. 

"  Thank  God,  I  know  this  first ! "  he  cried  bit- 
terly, and  moved  away  a  step. 

"  If  God  had  cared  for  me,  I  should  never  have 
known  you  at  all !  "  she  answered ;  then,  her  voice 
echoing  with  wild,  training  reproach  :  "  Oh,  God ! 
what  have  I  done  that  I  should  yield  and  suffer 
again  ?  " 

Hazell  paused  at  the  pain  of  the  words,  and 
stepped  toward  her.  As  he  did  so  she  felt  his  pur- 
pose, and  turned  upon  him  pitilessly. 

"  Will  you  never  go  ?  Will  nothing  rid  me  of 
you  ?  I  tell  you,  if  you  realised  how  I  loathe  the 


158  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

sight  of  you,  you  would  rather  sink  into  the  earth 
than  stand  where  I  can  see  you ! " 

Conviction  stung  him,  blood  rushed  hotly  to  his 
cheeks  and  brow,  he  clenched  his  fists,  he  gnashed 
his  teeth  at  her,  and  strode  away,  stamping  upon 
the  ground.  She  heard  his  horse  retreat ;  she  sank 
down,  crouching  lower  and  lower  involuntarily,  she 
knew  not  why,  for  blankness  had  come  upon  her 
mi  .id  and  insensibility  upon  her  body. 


CHAPTER  XII 

IN  a  world  subject  to  the  form  of  time,  the  hu- 
man heart,  with  its  inveterate  need  of  something 
that  abides,  conceives  and  establishes  certain  insti- 
tutions, which  have  an  unquestioned  Tightness,  an 
essential  prerogative.  They  take  precedence  of  all 
ordinary  concerns.  When  they  are  mentioned  there 
is  silence,  as  before  a  dealing  of  Providence,  or  ad- 
miring acquiescence.  These  institutions  vary  with 
race,  with  circumstance,  but  they  exist  in  every 
community,  in  every  heart.  Such  are  the  spring 
cleaning  of  middle-class,  the  baby  of  all-class  house- 
holds, the  tobacco-cult  of  all  mild  men,  not  other- 
wise indispensable,  the  preserving  and  proper  de- 
struction of  foxes,  the  game  of  whist,  the  Australian 
shearing.  "We  could  not  do  without  them.  In  mo- 
notonous lives  they  are  the  supreme  event ;  among 
perplexing  mental  changes,  the  fall  of  governments, 
the  growing  assumptions  of  women,  their  inflexibil- 
ity affords  a  consoling  restfulness ;  even  the  greater 
sorrows  of  the  soul,  loss,  anxiety,  become  secondary 
before  the  dignity  of  these;  for  there  may  be  a 
vacant  chair  at  the  family  table,  nevertheless,  all 
chairs  must  be  purified  from  the  slow  stain  of 
winter ;  there  may  be  a  threat  of  suspended  banks, 
foreclosing  mortgages,  nevertheless,  sheep  must  be 
shorn. 

Hazell  found  comfort  in  this  last,  which  may  not 

159 


160  HEAKTS  IMPOKTHNATE 

impertinently  be  named  the  Australian  feast  of  ob- 
ligation. In  the  brutality  of  mental  shock,  in  the 
tearing  and  rending  distraction  of  his  mind,  in  the 
violence  of  conflicting  passion,  he  would  have  been 
shaken  to  pieces,  broken  up,  but  for  the  imperious 
call  to  shear  his  sheep.  That  he  was  new,  not  only 
to  the  function,  but  to  the  sublime  importance  of  it, 
that  he  was  alone  in  his  obedience,  discounted  its 
healing  value,  for  full  appreciation  of  a  faith  comes 
but  by  birth  in  it — what  Frenchman  could  feel  fit 
reverence  for  the  criterion  of  the  Marylebone  Cricket 
Club  ?  A  mere  bachelor,  who  can  assure  no  discom- 
fort other  than  his  own,  is  deprived  of  the  moral  sup- 
port that  comes  of  a  household  disarranged,  domestic 
appointments  swept  aside  for  some  great  yearly  due. 
But  the  feeling  of  it  was  in  the  air.  Always  latent, 
the  full  force  of  it  had  spread  invincibly  downward 
from  far  northern  parts,  where  sheep  are  shorn  in 
earlier  months — in  June,  in  May — to  his  own  dis- 
trict, where  their  fleecing  was  a  custom  of  the 
spring.  It  reached  him  through  his  self -absorption ; 
one  word  was  hissed  by  every  tongue,  one  word- 
stock — shear — with  varying  modification.  Shears, 
shearing,  shearers,  shearing-shed,  shearers'  hut, 
shearers'  cook,  and  so  forth,  appeared  in  every  sen- 
tence ;  the  sentence  came  into  being  for  its  sake. 
Shearing-time  is  the  apotheosis  of  the  sibilant  in 
English  speech;  philologists  will  guess  how  the 
island  continent  sizzles.  Social  life  was  suspended. 
The  males  of  each  station  ate  silent  breakfasts  in 
the  dimness  of  the  dawn,  and  went  forth,  solemnly 
preoccupied,  in  religious  haste,  to  spend  days  of  in- 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  161 

definite  length  on  the  shearing-floor.  They  went, 
it  seemed,  for  years,  or  for  ever.  No  bride  might 
ask  of  her  husband's  return ;  if  not  in  anger,  then 
in  sorrow,  he  would  have  answered  with  the  ques- 
tion, How  could  he  tell  it — at  shearing-time  ?  The 
women,  uneasy,  superfluous,  their  habits  disre- 
garded, abode  beleaguered  at  home,  no  means  of 
leaving  it,  save  on  foot  under  miles  of  blazing  sun ; 
there  was  none  for  them ;  every  hand  on  the  run 
which  might  otherwise  have  brought  in  a  horse  or 
harnessed  him  was  engaged  in  some  connection  of 
shearing.  The  townships  lay  deserted,  newspapers 
unread,  church  congregations  wore  their  best  in  the 
true  sanctuaries,  wooden  sheds  throughout  the  Bush, 
where  lines  of  lean,  hard-mouthed  men,  bent  double 
week  after  week,  performed  the  annual  sacrifice, 
and  the  odour  of  sheep  rose  steadily  to  heaven. 

Uninitiate  though  he  was,  Hazell's  interest  grew 
as  he  watched  his  fleeces  fall.  His  impulse  to  leave 
the  country  was  stayed,  at  all  events,  till  after  the 
shearing.  Not  likely  he  would  find  an  instant  pur- 
chaser for  Burrabindar,  and  how  could  flocks  be 
left  in  wool?  He  remained  spending  days  half- 
nauseated  in  the  seething  shanty  watching  the  end- 
less procession  of  terrified  merinos  driven  in  brown 
and  bulky,  driven  out  white  and  poor,  and  he  asked 
himself  from  time  to  time  if  it  were  worth  so  much 
toil,  so  much  agitation,  that  one  solitary  man,  who 
cared  not  whether  he  lived  or  died,  should  draw  in- 
terest on  his  capital  ?  As  the  month  went  on,  he 
felt  that  he  had  been  standing  on  a  greasy  floor  for 
ever,  watching  struggling  quadrupeds,  that  all  the 


162  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

globe  of  earth  beyond  the  floor  was  subdivided  into 
pens  of  swarming  plaintive  creatures,  protesting  at 
exploitation.  They  baa'd  at  him  in  his  nights ; 
sleepless  or  restless  in  his  dreams,  he  wrought  with 
endless  enumeration  of  seething  herds,  and  in  the 
intervals  of  counting  sheep  he  cursed  women — evil 
enigmas,  Dead  Sea  apples,  which  lured  the  senses 
and  became  ashes  in  possession  ;  and  he  cursed  men, 
fools  of  men  who  could  do  neither  without  them 
nor  with  them.  He  nailed  his  attention  to  the 
sheep,  passing — a  frightened,  bleating  multitude — 
passing.  To  attempt  the  riddle  of  Avis  was  to  lose 
reason ;  to  touch  on  his  present  desolation  was  to 
touch  a  wound  too  exquisitely  sore  to  bear  it.  Fair 
quality  of  wool  it  was,  they  told  him,  not  very  long 
and  rather  dry,  but,  considering  the  season,  better 
than  might  have  been  expected.  Dry,  was  it  ?  he 
commented,  for  the  reek  of  yolk  was  in  his  nostrils, 
everything  stunk  of  it,  it  tainted  the  food  set  before 
him.  He  ate  hardly  anything ;  his  clothes  began 
to  hang  loosely  on  him.  Yet  his  case  was  better 
than  that  of  Avis,  upon  whom  shearing  made  no 
demands.  The  days  were  long  past  when  the  head 
station  at  Wamagatta  was  perturbed  for  the  yearly 
ceremonial.  Caradon  might  torment  his  wife  with 
irregular  doings;  overseers  under  Caradon  might 
drudge  in  the  cause  of  the  required  100,000  fleeces, 
but  it  was  enough  for  the  owner  of  them  to  ride 
slowly  on  his  old  horse  twice  a  week  to  the  shed, 
and  even  then  to  note  things  chiefly  with  an  eye  to 
a  comparative  past.  At  any  time,  moreover,  though 
she  claimed  the  full  name  of  Australian  for  her  sym- 


HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE  163 

pathies,  Avis  had  never  taken  the  point  of  view  of 
the  true  sheep-breeder ;  she  would  doubt  if  God  had 
made  so  many  sun-drenched  miles  with  a  view  to 
the  British  colonist ;  she  would  extend  a  warm  pity 
to  the  free,  leaping  kangaroo  and  wallaby,  the  poor 
comical  'possum  and  padamelon,  all  exterminated 
with  so  high  a  hand.  She  would  wonder  whimsic- 
ally if  the  sum  total  of  happiness  of  a  few  thousand 
grumbling  human  beings  and  a  few  million  striped 
sheep  balanced  that  of  uncounted  marsupials,  rodents 
and  birds  slain  in  their  interest.  But  she  had  more 
sense  than  to  press  her  fancy  ;  she  was  aware  of  a 
person  whose  income  was  derived  elsewhere,  by  no 
effort  of  her  own,  by  means,  probably,  no  more 
altruistic.  But  to  hold  one's  self  aloof  from  the 
spirit  of  the  feast  was  verily  to  fall  on  silence ;  Avis 
fell  there.  Nothing  hindered,  morning  after  morn- 
ing she  sat  silent  in  her  room,  her  violin  in  its  case, 
her  horses  in  the  stables ;  in  the  afternoon  she  would 
generally  sleep  heavily;  in  the  evening  a  book 
cloaked  the  emptiness  of  her  thought.  She  was  not 
conscious  of  much  suffering,  yet  in  after  years  she 
looked  back,  recognising  a  season  of  intolerable 
misery.  Her  face  was  thin,  her  eyes  and  voice  were 
dull  almost  to  stupor.  Mrs.  Bolitho  watched  her 
anxiously.  Something  serious  had  happened,  but 
the  girl  so  near  to  her  was  shrouded  from  her  im- 
penetrably, by  her  silence,  as  by  Athene's  mantle. 
Question  seemed  impossible.  Josephine  spoke  of 
having  found  her  on  the  eventful  evening  alone  and 
apparently  asleep  upon  a  log,  when  the  moon  rose. 
She  pleaded  fatigue :  she  had  hauled  about  too  many 


164:  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

heavy  trees,  she  said ;  she  refused  dinner,  and  went 
to  bed. 

Hazell  was  clean  gone,  mysteriously,  not  to  say 
uncivilly — gone  to  his  clearing,  of  course  ;  but  a 
man  so  much  in  love  would  make  some  sign,  unless 
he  had  been  dismissed  ;  one  could  have  sworn  that 
Avis  would  accept  him.  Caradon  told  his  wife  of 
a  vague  rumour  of  an  unpleasant  charge  against 
Miss  Fletcher,  of  something  which  happened  long 
ago  in  England,  and  can  one  say  how  such  things 
come  about?  It  may  be  that  the  birds  of  the 
air  carry  the  matter ;  it  was  generally  known  in 
the  whole  district  by  people  to  whom  she  had 
never  spoken,  or  even  seen,  that  Hazell  would  have 
married  her,  but  for  the  rumour — rumour  which, 
said  some,  she  had  refused  to  explain,  which,  said 
others,  she  had  admitted  and  he  had  withdrawn, 
leaving  her  to  insufferable  chagrin. 

There  was  an  English  mail  day  when  Avis  had 
nothing  for  the  post-bag.  Mrs.  Bolitho  limped  to 
her  sitting-room  and  demanded  at  least  her  weekly 
letter  to  her  mother. 

"  Is  it  Saturday,  then  ? "  asked  Avis,  who  was 
lounging  with  listless  hands  along  the  arm  of  an 
easy-chair. 

"  Yes  ;  be  quick,  dear  child ;  a  post-card  !  What 
would  your  mother  think  ?  " 

"  I  had  forgotten  ;  the  days  are  so  like  each 
other."  Avis  made  no  motion  toward  the  writing- 
table. 

"  At  once,  Avis  !  The  boy  is  waiting  for  the  bag. 
You  must  be  ill,  dear  child ! " 


HEAETS  IMPOETUNATE  165 

"  Oh  no,  not  at  all ;  but  sometimes  lately  I  have 
thought  I  was  dead.  Eeally,  I  think  I  must  be — 
I  am  so  stupid." 

"  My  dear,  you're  bilious.  I  know  the  feeling. 
No  one  has  suffered  more  than  I  from  liver  and  all 
the  mental  appurtenances  thereof.  But  at  least 
tell  your  mother." 

"  She  wouldn't  understand  it." 

"  Then  I  must  tell  her  myself." 

Mrs.  Bolitho  wrote  a  hasty  line,  while  Avis  stared 
dully  through  the  window.  "  Here,  you'll  like  to 
read  what  I  have  written,  I  dare  say." 

Avis  took  it  carelessly,  and  while  without  inter- 
est she  followed  the  words  which  told  of  a  brief 
and  unimportant  but  quite  absorbing  ailment,  her 
friend  prepared  a  private  sheet,  with  the  forcible 
statement : 

"  Our  child  is  altogether  upset  by  what  I  take  to 
be  a  very  sore  love  matter.  She  is  not  like  herself 
at  all.  I  must  get  her  away  for  change ;  but  she  is 
hard  to  stir,  and  I,  you  know,  cannot  move  about 
as  I  should  like.  Avis  takes  things  badly.  You 
know  her  best ;  I  need  not  tell  you.  Could  you 
not  hasten  your  visit  here  ?  Indeed,  I  think  she 
wants  you.  There  are  some  things  for  which  a 
good  mother  is  the  only  help." 

When  the  boy  had  gone,  Mrs.  Bolitho  returned 
to  find  her  charge  indifferent  as  before. 

"  Avis  !  "  she  said  sharply,  "  nothing  but  the  death 
you  talk  of  so  foolishly,  or  some  serious  incapacity, 
could  account  for  your  conduct,  or  excuse  it. 
While  you  have  your  reason  and  your  right  hand, 


166  HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE 

your  letter  to  your  mother  should  go.  I  am 
ashamed  for  you  to  have  to  say  such  a  thing. 
Think  if  you  had  a  daughter  of  your  own." 

"  Too  remote  to  contemplate,"  was  the  unrespon- 
sive answer. 

"  Rubbish !  Think  of  her  anxiety.  Are  you  hu- 
man?" 

Avis  seemed  to  listen  with  an  effort. 

She  replied,  "  I  dare  say  not,"  and  remained  star- 
ing at  the  grass  outside. 

"  I  have  sent  for  Dr.  Middlemass.  You  must  be 
suffering  from  incipient  softening  of  the  brain." 

"  Oh,  well,  he  can  say  so,  then." 

"  And  meantime,  you  are  intolerable  in  the  house  ! 
I  could  put  up  with  death,  but  I  cannot  stand 
death's  head.  I -won't  have  you  here ;  you  will  go 
with  Caradon  and  Pheenie  to  the  Melbourne  Cup." 

"  Oh,  I  think  not." 

"  If  they  will  take  you,  that  is.  I  won't  have  you 
here.  I  want  something  cheerful  at  Wamagatta." 

"  I  can  stay  in  bed  if  you  would  rather  not  see 
me ;  or  isn't  there  an  empty  hut  somewhere  on  the 
place?  You  could  send  me  rations,  you  know, 
aunty." 

"  Avis,  are  you  out  of  your  mind  ?  " 

"  Well,  aunty,  I  rather  hope  I  am." 

When  the  doctor  came,  he  found  his  advice  re- 
quired for  Mrs.  Bolitho,  not  Miss  Fletcher.  The 
ways  of  women  are  wonderful.  Whether  a  strictly 
masculine  education,  a  practical  manner  of  life  out- 
of-doors  bread-winning,  such  as  may  be  the  custom 
for  them  in  years  to  come,  will  radically  change 


HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE  167 

them,  or  that  their  action  can  be  classified  and  fore- 
told, reckoned  with,  it  is  impossible  to  say.  Thus 
far  in  our  experience  it  appears  to  arise  out  of  the 
exigencies  of  the  moment,  treated  from  an  entirely 
private  and  original  point  of  view.  Its  fruit  is  often 
magical ;  its  root  is  deep  in  mystery.  It  was  years 
since  Mrs.  Bolitho  had  called  medical  aid  for  herself 
— she  was  not  apt  to  despond  because  of  a  small 
indisposition,  and  professional  travelling  expenses 
are  high.  Without  good  cause,  certainly,  she  would 
not  have  summoned  a  valuable  public  servant  from 
Beulah.  No  doubt  Mrs.  Bolitho  was  ill — she  was 
in  bed,  a  place  she  detested  except  for  purposes  of 
sleep ;  and  the  professional  countenance,  after  a 
visit  to  the  patient,  over  a  cup  of  tea  with  the  anx- 
ious husband,  was  grave. 

"  We  must  keep  up  her  strength,  feed  her  well, 
but  carefully,  Miss  Fletcher,"  said  the  man  of  heal- 
ing. "  Most  lowering  thing,  neuralgia." 

"  So  I  believe,  doctor,  so  I  believe.  Pain  on  the 
nerves,  I'm  told.  Now,  what  I  say  is,  What  are 
nerves  ?  Never  felt  a  nerve  in  my  life." 

"  If  all  men  were  like  you,  what  would  become 
of  us  f  "  asked  the  doctor,  speaking  for  his  confra- 
ternity. 

The  silence  of  Avis  was  much  disturbed.  She 
forsook  it  to  wait  assiduousty  upon  her  old  friend, 
recumbent  from  neuralgia  in  the  always  damaged 
leg,  unsolaced  in  recumbency,  from  neuralgia  in  the 
generally  strong  eyes.  Twice  a  day  Avis  used  to 
read  to  her  for  an  hour  or  so,  and  she  would  make 
efforts  at  conversation,  for  an  invalid  may  not  mope, 


168  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

as  also  for  the  benefit  of  the  bereaved  husband,  for 
an  old  man  may  not  be  ignored  at  his  own  table. 
Moreover,  as  some  hand  must  hold  the  reins  though 
the  team  be  docile  and  the  road  smooth,  the  order- 
ing of  the  household  fell  to  Avis.  Mrs.  Bolitho, 
fearful  lest  confinement  to  the  house  and  sick-room 
should  affect  the  health  of  her  nurse,  ordered  Pil- 
grim to  be  brought  round  every  morning,  and  in- 
sisted that  he  was  ridden,  and  further,  it  was  un- 
derstood that  as  soon  as  strength  and  circumstances 
allowed,  change  of  air  should  be  tried  for  the  clam- 
orous nerves.  Miss  Fletcher  was  not  questioned 
about  her  softening  brain,  nor  was  any  physical 
tonic  offered  to  her ;  her  treatment  by  Mrs.  Bolitho 
was  entirely  mental,  and  objective  at  that.  The 
girl  grew  no  worse,  she  mended  somewhat.  One 
morning  she  took  suddenly  to  a  romp  with  Dot 
and  Boyah  on  the  bedroom  floor,  and  it  seemed  to 
the  neuralgic  eyes  watching  them  that  years  and 
sorrows  fell  from  her  as  she  laughed.  That  after- 
noon the  eyes  were  better,  able  to  cope  with  print. 
"When  the  careful  nurse  argued  the  point,  the  pa- 
tient became  fractious  and  enigmatical.  "  There 
are  limits,"  she  said  decidedly,  "  beyond  which  mar- 
tyrdom will  not  go  !  "  Avis  pondered  the  words, 
for  one  would  say,  speaking  generally,  that  mar- 
tyrdom qua  martyrdom  knows  no  limit,  but  dis- 
cussion is  the  darling  of  keen  minds  at  rest ;  the 
sharpness  of  the  words  was  soon  lost  in  her  dull 
preoccupation. 

Dr.  Middlemass  declared  himself  puzzled  at  the 
long-continued  neuralgia  in  the  limb. 


HEAETS  IMPOETUNATE  169 

"  There  may  be  further  bone  mischief,"  he  said 
dubiously. 

"  They  told  me,  all  the  people  who  tormented  me 
for  my  good,  that  it  would  get  no  worse,"  said  the 
sufferer. 

"  That  was  a  considerable  time  ago,  Mrs.  Bolitho. 
They  would  not  be  so  very  far  out,  even  if,  which 
I  hope  is  not  the  case,  there  were  some  new  devel- 
opment." 

"  My  dear,  you  will  make  no  hesitation,  I  beg — 
most  certainly  go  down  to  Sydney  and  see  Dr. 
Farintosh.  Sorry  I  can't  offer  to  go  with  you. 
Missy  will  go." 

It  was  a  consultation  in  Mrs.  Bolitho's  room. 
There  was  no  secret  in  the  matter.  Continuous  in- 
visible pain  on  the  part  of  Mrs.  Bolitho,  continuous 
inexplicative  and  non-cure  on  the  part  of  the  Beulah 
physician,  any  one  might  hear  all  there  was  to  be 
said  on  the  matter.  We  all  have  legs,  and  so  long 
as  they  are  outwardly  whole,  we  may  all  talk  about 
them.  Missy  was  of  the  party. 

"  Of  course,"  she  said,  "  wherever  you  like, 
aunty." 

"  My  child,  you  hate  Sydney,  and  with  all  respect 
for  ingenious  learning  and  excellent  intention,  doc- 
tor, I  have  no  opinion  of  the  faculty  of  healing." 

"  We  have  to  put  up  with  this  sort  of  thing,"  said 
the  doctor  blandly,  addressing  the  company  ;  "  we 
can  only  do  our  best.  Dr.  Farintosh's  best  will 
certainly  be  better  than  mine." 

"There  is  nothing  better,  when  anything  is 
wrong  with  one,  than  a  good  bed.  Avis  hates  Syd- 


170  HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE 

ney,  and  the  northeasters  will  be  in  their  glory.  I 
won't  victimise  her  for  an  off-chance." 

"  If  the  odds  were  a  thousand  to  one,  we'd  take 
it,  aunty.  I  don't  care  for  any  town,  but  I  do  care 
that  you  should  be  out  of  pain." 

"Pheenie  is  away;  who  is  to  look  after  you, 
Spencer  ?  It  is  out  of  the  question." 

"  Nonsense,  my  love ;  Elspeth  will  do  me.  I  have 
great  confidence  in  Elspeth." 

"  Telegraph  to  May  Comarty  to  come  and  stay 
here,"  said  Avis.  "  Uncle  Bolitho  likes  her." 

"Avis,  they  are  shearing  on  the  Laggan  Eiver  !  " 

"  All  the  more  reason,"  said  the  young  woman, 
"  that  May  should  be  glad  to  get  away." 

"Well,  perhaps,"  the  invalid  conceded,  "if  she 
would  send  me  a  telegram  every  day,  saying  how 
you  were,  Spencer,  and  you  would  promise  to  write 
me  a  few  lines  every  day,  with  your  own  hand " 

Then  it  was  settled.  Mrs.  Bolitho  was  borne 
elaborately  from  her  bed  to  the  railway,  and  went 
off  to  Sydney  in  a  sleeping  carriage.  She  bore  the 
journey  excellently  ;  her  only  difficulty  was  at  the 
end,  when  she  had  to  be  lifted  up  the  steps  of  the 
hotel. 


CHAPTEK  XIII 

IT  was  several  years  since  Avis  had  been  in  a  city, 
and  Sydney  is  a  large  place,  with  much  stir  in  its 
streets.  Trams  rattle  and  whistle,  omnibus-drivers 
announce  their  destination  in  a  loud  nasal  snarl, 
clocks  strike,  electric  bells  ring,  newspaper-boys  are 
shrill,  and  it  is  a  happy  haunt  for  the  professional 
loafer.  Beyond  the  confusion  of  noise  to  ears 
habituated  to  the  silence  of  the  Bush,  beyond  the 
effect  of  comparative  suffocation  common  to  all  who 
come  from  air  unlimited  to  air  closely  contested, 
Avis  suffered  much  from  the  observation  of  her 
fellow-creatures.  Wherever  she  went,  eyes  followed 
her  with  a  tribute  of  curiosity,  admiration  and 
envy,  which  would  have  been  dear  to  many  women, 
but  was  painful  to  her.  Sixty-eight  inches  of  superb 
humanity,  borne  with  the  goddess  step,  are  an  un- 
common feast  for  the  gazer  of  either  sex.  Feminine 
heads  on  all  sides  wrought  according  to  fashion 
confessed  the  desirability  of  red  or  yellow  as  a  pig- 
ment; but  an  indescribable  something,  a  shade,  a 
blending  of  complexion,  declared  our  heroine  fault- 
lessly golden,  without  compliment  to  a  moment's 
mode,  declared  her  birthright  among  so  much  pre- 
tension, and  Avis,  shy,  resentful,  threatened  herself 
with  the  adoption  of  a  black  wig,  and  dulled  her 
brilliant  features  with  a  close-meshed  veil.  But 

171 


172  HEAETS  IMPOETUNATE 

Artemis  walks  alone  in  safety — the  loafing  and  the 
staring  can  do  her  no  harm. 

Dr.  Farintosh  came  and  spoke  of  sciatica :  the 
sudden  onset,  specially  elusive  pain,  the  dark 
colouring  of  a  sufferer  who  admitted  the  consump- 
tion of  cream  with  trembling,  pointed  safely  to 
sciatica.  Electric  baths  were  indicated.  It  is  the 
redeeming  quality  of  an  agonising  complaint  that 
it  is  fantastically  intermittent.  There  were  days 
when  Mrs.  Bolitho  was  entirely  free  from  it:  a 
victoria,  easy  of  entrance,  was  hired,  and  the  ladies 
went  about  Sydney  to  divert  themselves.  No 
doubt  the  elder  of  them  was  very  cheerful,  very 
well  amused ;  no  doubt  the  younger  looked  with 
indifference  or  dislike  upon  a  world  that  looked  so 
much  at  her,  even  though  youth  and  the  passion  of 
vigorous  life  would  now  and  again  surge  in  her 
veins  and  call  upon  her  to  enjoy.  If  sometimes  it 
seemed  that  it  could  not  be  a  hostile  world  where 
so  many  smiled  upon  each  other,  if  sometimes  she 
asked  herself  why  it  should  not  be  happy  wherein 
was  so  much  sunshine,  so  many  flowers,  such  a 
spread  of  blue  waters,  the  answer  seemed  to  be  in 
an  evil  fate  upon  herself.  She  should  have  been 
named  Tantala,  not  Avis.  Sydney  the  beautiful 
was  still  lovely  round  them,  not  yet  spoiled  and 
faded  by  the  over  devotion  of  the  sun ;  the  gardens 
of  its  villas  were  still  green  and  glorious  with 
flowers;  there  was  still  something  of  coolness  in 
the  nightfall,  but  it  was  all  unprofitable  to  her 
mood.  She  longed,  in  violent  gusts  of  longing,  for 
the  deep  lanes  of  Southamptonshire,  for  the  pipe  of 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  1T3 

the  blackbird  at  sunset,  for  the  blossoming  trees  of 
spring,  for  the  old  grey  street  of  the  county  town, 
rich  in  memories,  fair  in  design,  tender  with  moss 
and  lichen.  If  one's  weird  is  for  all  one's  life,  then 
would  one  rather  dree  it  among  one's  own  people, 
and  the  cathedral  chime  that  told  one's  hour  of 
birth  may  fall  soothingly  upon  sad  ears,  and  the 
distracted  soul  shall  dwell  more  easily  in  an  old 
than  in  a  new  garment  of  circumstance. 

The  sickly  northeast  wind  blew  every  afternoon 
from  the  Pacific,  but  Avis  made  no  complaint :  she 
felt  the  summer  southerly  from  the  English  Chan- 
nel. When  the  city  clock  struck,  her  recollection 
was  haunted  by  a  sweet  faltering  utterance  of  "  Life 
let  us  cherish "  floating  over  sacred  precincts. 
Those  who  worked  the  harbour  ferries  wondered 
that  so  fair  and  proud  a  figure,  always  alone, 
always  with  an  air  of  complete  detachment  from 
her  surroundings,  should  make  consecutive  journeys 
backward  and  forward  in  their  craft,  journeys  of  a 
few  minutes  taken  by  most  persons  with  hurried 
purpose.  To  Avis  they  were  the  most  convenient 
way  of  pasturing  her  homesick  eyes  upon  the 
grand  ocean-going  liners  berthed  upon  the  quays, 
superb  ships,  with  the  mystery  of  far  travel  about 
their  massive  hulls — hulls  which  continually  cut  the 
waters  washing  Southamptonshire. 

Mrs.  Bolitho,  for  all  her  watching,  missed  many 
details  of  her  companion's  actions,  but  she  under- 
stood the  importance  at  such  a  moment  of  a  strong 
domestic  claim.  Avis  would  not  leave  her  ill  and 
lame  in  a  hired  chamber,  not  though  all  vessels  set 


174  HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE 

seaward  every  day  for  happier  lands,  not  though 
easeful  death,  ever  tempting  to  the  strong  and  the 
young,  offered  relief  from  pain.  "  Avis  would  not 
leave  me,"  she  thought  firmly ;  "  and  time  is  every- 
thing, and  her  mother  will  be  here ;  and,  finally, 
whatever  has  happened,  I  cannot  believe  that  that 
man,  in  love,  will  let  her  go."  A  fortnight  passed. 
The  weather  was  hot  and  enervating ;  society  was 
quiet  under  it,  took  its  pleasure  on  its  incomparable 
harbour,  talked  of  flight  some  whither  cooler. 

On  the  afternoon  of  an  important  cricket  match, 
whereby  the  few  courted  sunstroke  for  the  diversion 
of  the  many,  the  reading-room  of  the  Sutherland 
Hotel  was  empty.  Avis  went  in  and  turned  over 
the  journals ;  she  found  little  to  interest  her.  Hav- 
ing no  taste  for  cricket  or  for  yachting,  having  no 
anxiety  concerning  the  money  market,  and  a  hearty 
hatred  for  politics  of  all  kinds,  she  knew  not  what 
to  read.  She  lighted  upon  a  periodical  of  flaring 
exterior,  registered  under  the  name  of  the  Live  Un. 
Its  weekly  cartoon  was  usually  clever  and  offensive ; 
it  dealt  familiarly  with  every  phase  of  colonial  life 
from  the  standpoint  of  vulgar  irreconcilability. 
What  it  upheld,  what  it  admired,  no  man  might 
say,  but  any  man  might  be  sure,  week  by  week,  of 
finding  some  spiteful  word  flung  where  he  thought 
it  due.  Avis,  out  of  patience  with  public  excite- 
ment about  cricketers,  betook  herself  to  its  pages  to 
find  some  poignant  belittlement  of  the  national 
game.  A  paragraph  in  this  column  called  particu- 
larly social  caught  her  attention  and  held  it : 

"  Goodness  knows,  we  are  sufficiently  accustomed 


HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE  175 

to  male  English  riffraff  in  this  country — dissolute 
lordlings  and  remittance  men  pepper  the  land 
thickly  enough — but  it  has  been  reserved  for  the 
day  of  the  New  Woman  to  introduce  to  the  hupper 
suckles  of  Sydney  the  female  ne'er-do-well  who  has 
left  her  country  for  her  country's  good.  Who,  ex- 
actly, is  the  gorgeous  person  with  the  aureolined 
head  who  has  a  passion  for  harbour  ferries  and  is 
known  among  her  friends  as  the  Bird  of  Paradise  ? 
When  matrons  of  well-established  position  use  their 
influence  to  foist  such  upon  our  hospitable  com- 
munity, it  is  time  some  one  made  a  stand.  If  we 
are  to  continue  to  respect  the  Yolumnias  of  the 
Squattocracy,  they  must  behave  according.  A  fine 
figure  does  not  excuse  everything.  Men  of  doubt- 
ful character  are  bad  enough,  but  woman 

What  is  society  coming  to  ?  " 

There  was  no  one  to  see.  Avis  rent  the  Live  Un 
to  pieces,  and  for  a  few  minutes  she  trod  the  soft 
carpet  of  the  reading-room  with  the  raging  step  of 
genuine  tragedy.  Then  she  returned  to  her  chair 
and  reasoned  with  herself,  setting  down  in  order 
arguments  for  her  comfort.  It  was  a  small  com- 
munity always  agog ;  and  that  life  must  indeed  be 
private  which  could  escape  notice.  The  Live  Un 
was  notorious  even  in  her  own  Bush  retreat ;  she  had 
known  those  who  had  winced  and  cursed  under  its 
poisonous  attack.  Had  she  thought  the  worse  of 
them  ?  Who  would  think  the  worse  of  her  ?  who 
would  think  of  her  at  all  next  week  when  there 
was  another  victim  ?  The  season  was  dull,  yet  the 
scandalmongers  of  the  press  must  deliver  their  tale. 


176  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

For  the  moment  she  supplied  in  her  own  person  the 
straw  for  their  bricks.  Who  was  the  author  ?  It 
was  not  likely  that  the  stones  of  the  capital  were 
crying  about  her  of  their  own  accord.  She  was  not 
a  batsman  making  runs ;  it  was  not  likely  that  her 
story  was  known  by  cablegram.  She  was  not  an 
Australian  artist  making  her  debut  at  St.  James's 
Hall.  A  private  hand  had  dealt  the  blow  ;  a  pri- 
vate hand — likely  a  shabby  one  in  need  of  a  few 
shillings  for  a  new  glove.  May  Railton  could  so 
easily  communicate  with  the  social  column  of  the 
Live  Un,  and,  under  protest,  every  clubman  in  New 
South  Wales  read  the  paper,  and  his  wife  heard  the 
news  of  it  somehow.  Ralph  Hazell  was  not  by  this 
time  with  his  reassuring  shoulder.  There  was  a 
moment  for  Avis  of  the  anguish  of  defeat,  as  though 
the  battle  of  life  were  hopelessly  ended  to  her  dis- 
comfiture ;  then  a  new  spirit  awoke  in  her,  and, 
well  or  ill,  she  defied  slander,  defied  sorrow,  defied 
the  world,  and  she  resolved  in  an  instant  to  fight 
it  with  its  own  weapon,  by  her  own  strength. 

The  "  aureolined  head  "  was  as  high  as  ever,  the 
fine  figure  as  erect,  as  she  crossed  the  main  hall  of 
the  hotel  on  the  way  to  her  room ;  and  it  seemed  to 
her  that  the  porter  stared  at  her  unduly ;  and  the 
clerks  at  the  various  desks,  and  the  sellers  at  the 
stalls,  recognised  her  insolently  as  the  Bird  of  Para- 
dise of  the  Live  Un,  but  she  brushed  their  glances 
off  as  though  they  had  been  flies  upon  her  sleeve. 
The  race  is  to  the  swift,  and  the  battle  to  the 
strong,  she  told  herself,  and  felt  herself  both. 

Mrs.  Bolitho  was  sleeping,  resting  after  the  morn- 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  177 

ing's  electric  bath.  At  the  stroke  of  four  Avis 
came  to  her  sofa  with  a  smile  and  a  cup  of  tea. 

"  Come,  aunty — nap  over  !  Such  a  splendid  after- 
noon !  Do  you  know,  I  was  thinking  that  if  you 
felt  equal  to  it,  we  might  drive  out  together  to  the 
cricket  ground  and  see  the  end  of  the  match." 

It  was  the  first  word  on  Avis's  part  of  a  deliber- 
ate demand  for  society,  and  the  demand  was  sus- 
tained. "With  astonishment,  but  deep  content,  Mrs. 
Bolitho's  consent  was  given  as  it  was  asked.  "With 
due  respect  on  both  sides  to  the  sciatica,  it  was  de- 
cided that  Miss  Fletcher  should  enter  immediately 
upon  acquaintance  with  Sydney — such  of  it  as  re- 
mained to  endure  the  usual  summer  infliction  of 
merciless  sun,  intolerable  winds,  paralysing  dust- 
storms.  Avis  accepted  the  dulness  of  the  season ; 
it  would  be  lively  enough,  she  said,  for  a  Bush- 
woman.  The  place  was  emptying  fast,  but  there 
would  surely  be  enough  people  left  to  divert  an  up- 
country  cousin. 

The  arguments  rang  genuine.  The  curious  hard- 
ness of  her  face  and  tone  might  be  accounted  as 
due  to  effort  after  mental  recovery ;  drawing-room 
distraction  was  probably  her  own  prescription  for 
heartache.  They  changed  their  quarters.  They 
were  hospitably  received  by  a  wealthy  widow,  Mrs. 
Wenban,  five  and  forty  years  ago  an  adored  school- 
mate of  Selina  Bulpett,  now  the  owner  of  a  luxuri- 
ous villa  on  the  sloping  shore  of  Bourke's  Bay,  with 
a  ravishing  view  of  the  blue  harbour,  whose  waters 
swept  her  garden  wall.  Mrs.  Bolitho's  circle  was 
so  select  that  it  could  be  as  extensive  as  she  pleased. 


178  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

In  other  days,  when  she  spent  part  of  each  year  in 
the  capital,  she  had  known  every  one  who  figured  in 
the  social  game  of  play.  Lately,  though  her  rare 
arrivals  were  always  respectfully  chronicled,  she 
had  confined  her  visiting  roll  to  those  peculiarly  of 
her  own  class,  old-established  pastoralists  who  pos- 
sessed town  houses.  They  were  people  of  compara- 
tively quiet  life  in  a  gay  community,  who  gave 
scant  attention  to  the  rapid  rise  and  fall  of  the  new 
wealthy,  nor  much  sought  even  the  important  ac- 
quaintance of  shortlived  official  rank.  Governors 
come  and  go,  the  squadron  changes,  the  Bench  of 
Justice  varies,  but  even  in  a  colony  there  is  some- 
thing of  aristocracy  taken  root  in  the  soil,  secure  of 
its  place,  bearing  responsibility.  No  house  could 
have  been  better  for  Avis's  purpose  than  that 
known,  fantastically,  after  the  fashion  of  a  city  of 
villas,  as  Gaza,  no  household  more  convenient. 
The  "Wenbans  were  above  gossip,  above  the  highest 
swell  of  its  foul  sea.  Mrs.  Wenban  had  one  son, 
Robert,  a  born  scientist,  who,  at  his  father's  death, 
had  declined  cattle-farming  and  sold  his  station,  and 
now  devoted  himself  to  physics  and  his  laboratory. 
His  laboratory  was  his  club,  his  bicycle  was  his  rec- 
reation. As  his  mother  would  not  leave  her  own 
country,  he  waited  contentedly  till  he  should  be 
free  to  establish  himself  in  the  old  world,  where  in- 
struments of  precision  are  manufactured  and  there 
is  a  stimulating  atmosphere  of  the  men  who  use 
them.  He  had  a  guest  with  him,  James  Outram, 
Englishman,  doctor  of  science  and  medicine,  master 
in  surgery,  whom  he  had  met  and  liked  in  London, 


HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE  179 

who,  being  poor  and  overworked,  had  lately  trav- 
elled out  as  ship's  doctor  for  the  benefit  of  the 
voyage. 

All  the  Sneerwells  of  Sydney  might  have  blated 
the  disgrace  of  Avis  Fletcher,  and  the  inhabitants 
of  Gaza  in  Bourke's  Bay  would  have  been  none  the 
wiser  ;  but  Avis  heard  them  in  the  air,  and  she  pre- 
pared for  the  fact  that  others  might  hear  them 
also.  Her  whole  habit  of  mind  was  for  the  mo- 
ment changed.  Hitherto  she  had  had  to  combat 
the  bitterness  of  her  own  heart,  and  she  had  done 
so  for  the  past  eight  years  in  mental  fashion,  amus- 
ing herself,  working  off  her  energy,  working  out 
her  natural  love  of  excitement  by  enthusiastic 
learning  of  some  new  thing.  Now,  she  felt,  the 
struggle  was  with  human  beings,  and  she  thought 
to  meet  them  best  by  human  weapons.  She  made 
to  herself  friends  of  two  men's  faith,  buying  it  with 
the  current  coin  of  sex — in  her  case  of  the  most 
brilliant  metal  splendidly  cast.  From  the  first 
evening,  when  she  sat  at  dinner  between  Eobert 
Wenban  and  James  Outram,  she  gave  her  whole  at- 
tention to  the  bewilderment  and  distraction  of 
both.  Neither  had  any  chance  to  withstand  her ; 
whatever  element  might  otherwise  be  wanting  for 
their  enslavery  (for  the  chance  was  small  that  she 
would  represent  the  well-beloved  to  each)  was  sup- 
plied by  the  natural  rivalry  of  two  upon  whom  her 
graciousness  fell  impartially;  and  one  man  was 
quiet  and  languid,  swept  off  his  feet  by  vivacity,  and 
the  other  was  in  the  final  stage  of  convalescence, 
when  the  chosen  line  is  usuallv  that  of  least  resist- 


180  HEAETS  IMPOKTUNATE 

ance.  Mrs.  Bolitho,  looking  on,  could  scarcely  rec- 
ognise her  adopted  daughter  as  an  enterprising  and 
skilful  flirt.  Mrs.  Wen  ban,  full  of  good  works,  her 
hands  busy  with  flannel  for  the  South  Sea  Island- 
ers, her  heart  bearing  tenderness  for  the  unfortu- 
nate, had  nothing  to  recognise  in  the  clothed  and 
fed.  Avis  was  not  careful  to  excuse  herself  in  the 
matter,  though,  had  she  been  taxed  with  her  mis- 
doing, excuses  lay  there  threefold.  If  all  the  world 
was  shortly  to  be  against  her,  she  must  make  to 
herself  followers  and  henchmen ;  life  was  intoler- 
able. If  she  was  not  to  betake  herself  to  easeful 
death,  she  must  have  diversion.  These  were  men 
— now,  since  by  Adam  came  sin  in  her  microcosm 
also,  then  upon  the  sons  and  brothers  of  Adam 
should  revenge  be  taken.  Let  them  suffer — indeed, 
the  more  the  better !  So  she  smiled  on  Dr.  Out- 
ram,  who  rowed  her  about  the  harbour,  and  she 
smiled  on  Mr.  Wenban,  who  hired  her  a  bicycle  and 
gave  her  lessons  in  the  art  of  riding  it.  As  a  pas- 
time, Avis  found  men  most  interesting,  and  she 
wondered  that  she  had  never  tried  them  before; 
moreover,  the  game  was  extraordinarily  easy.  A 
woman  moves  upon  the  foundation  of  sex  as  a  good 
swimmer  in  deep  water,  with  absolute  confidence. 
She  felt  she  could  do  no  wrong. 

Mrs.  Bolitho,  after  ten  days  of  growing  astonish- 
ment, in  which  she  had  formulated  every  conceiv- 
able explanation  of  the  new  behaviour,  could  con- 
tain herself  no  longer. 

"My  dear,"  she  said,  "I  really  must  ask  you: 
what  are  you  doing  with  these  two  men  ?  " 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  181 

Avis  answered  coolly :  "  I  am  doing  unto  others 
as  they  have  done  to  me." 

"  Do  you  care  about  either  of  them  ?  " 

"Not  at  all." 

"  The  young  one,  Dr.  Outram — I  say  nothing  of 
Robert  Wenban,  who  is  old  enough  to  take  care  of 
himself,  if  a  man  is  ever  that — Dr.  Outram  is  poor ; 
he  could  not  possibly  marry." 

"I  don't  want  him  to  marry." 

"  Do  you  want  to  break  his  heart  ?  " 

"  Suppose  I  do.  I  am  there  for  my  pains,  as  the 
French  say ;  men's  hearts  don't  break.  They  crack 
and  crack  and  make  a  lot  of  noise,  and  then  they 
recover  to  the  normal.  I  assure  you,  aunty  dear,  I 
have  no  more  pity  for  men  than  for  mosquitoes." 

She  caught  a  trumpeting  insect  in  her  hand  as  she 
spoke  and  flicked  its  corpse  away  with  a  finger. 

"  My  dear,  you  are  talking  of  half  the  world." 

Avis  was  lying  in  a  long  chair  with  her  feet  up 
before  her.  Ibsen's  plays  were  on  her  lap.  She 
stared  at  the  paper  cover  of  her  book  and  meditated 
an  answer  which  did  not  come. 

"  Do  you  get  your  ideas  to-day  from  that  extra- 
ordinary Norwegian  ?  " 

"  I  get  from  him  nothing  but  a  general  notion 
that  more  is  laid  upon  life — by  moral  philosophers 
— than  it  can  bear.  Now,  aunty,  you  have  preached 
sex  to  me  all  the  years  I  have  known  you,  and  all 
these  years  I  have  ignored  it.  Well,  it  seems  to  me 
that  the  world  is  reasonable  and  accountable  and 
moral  enough  outside  of  sex.  As  long  as  I  look 
upon  my  fellow-creatures  merely  as  fellow-creatures 


182  HEAKTS  IMPOKTUKATE 

called  arbitrarily  men  and  women,  but  really  all  the 
same,  my  actions  are  sensible  and  humane  and  ac- 
cording to  rule — I  walk  on  firm  land.  But  the  mo- 
ment I  plunge  into  the  sea  of  sex,  I  find  a  whirl  of 
opposing  forces,  an  anarchy  of  jealousy  and  ma- 
noeuvre and  prejudice  and  every  kind  of  emotion, 
big  and  little.  The  sex  world  is  everlastingly  at 
war,  essentially  anarchical.  I  recognise  no  moral 
law  in  it.  It  is  base.  '  Him  that  uttered  nothing 
base'  was  a  mooning  old  bachelor — "  Avis 
laughed,  frowned  at  her  own  shoes  and  concluded : 
"  Leave  me  alone,  aunty  dear.  I  have  become  what 
is  called  a  woman ! " 

"  A  woman  should  be  everything  that  is  good," 
said  Mrs.  Bolitho  sharply,  at  the  end  of  her  wits. 

"Why?"  said  Avis.  "How?  It  is  a  literary 
fiction.  The  men  who  write  books,  being  men,  are 
each  in  love  with  some  woman,  who  has  every  vir- 
tue because  she  has  a  dimple  in  her  cheek,  or  be- 
cause she  has  a  soothing  way  with  him ! " 

"  Women  write  books  too." 

"  Yes ;  and  they,  as  women,  keep  up  the  fiction." 

"  What  do  you  call  Mrs.  Wenban  and  her  beauti- 
ful life?" 

"  She  is  old ;  she  has  ceased  to  be  a  woman,  and 
returned  to  the  moral  plane." 

"  I  am  thoroughly  annoyed  with  you  ! " 

"  Of  course  you  are  !  Some  day,  perhaps  before 
long,  I  also  shall  return,  and  then  you  will  like  me 
again." 

"  And  in  the  meantime  ?  " 

'In  the  meantime,"  Avis  interrupted,  with  a 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  183 

careless  laugh,  "  another  mosquito  !  "  She  clapped 
her  hands  together,  and  humanity  was  free  of  a 
pest. 

Eobert  Wenban  presented  his  tall,  thin  figure  and 
pallid  face. 

"  Miss  Fletcher,"  he  said  solemnly,  "  do  you  think 
it  too  hot  to  try  the  theatre  to-night  ?  I  hear  of  a 
farce  that  is  extremely  laughable " 

"  It's  never  too  hot  to  laugh,"  she  answered,  and 
the  brilliant  look  of  pleasure,  the  look  he  was  want- 
ing to  see,  was  turned  upon  him. 

"  Then,  may  I  get  three  places  ?  "  He  moved  his 
eyes  reluctantly  and  addressed  Mrs.  Bolitho. 

"  Yes,  but  no  stairs,  remember,  and  remember, 
both  of  you,  it  is  to  be  a  farce — that  is  understood. 
No  tragedy." 


CHAPTEK  XIV 

CAEADON  BOLITHO  and  his  wife,  returned  from 
Melbourne  were  visiting  a  frivolous  couple  named 
Newbiggin — a  couple  of  their  own  age  and  mind, 
through  whose  trim  little  cottage  on  Eock  Point 
there  passed  all  the  talk  of  the  City.  It  was  a  cot- 
tage with  a  double  coach-house — a  cottage  of  gen- 
tility ;  and,  in  the  opinion  of  Josephine,  it  was  the 
cheeriest  halting-place  in  Sydney.  A  large  house 
has  strong  attractive  power,  if  only  that  of  mass, 
but  a  little  house,  generously  conducted,  draws 
visitors  like  a  magnet.  It  is  easy  to  slip  in  by  a 
little  gate  that  bars  only  a  yard  or  two  of  gravel 
walk ;  and  the  nervous,  the  carelessly  dressed,  have 
nothing  to  fear  from  the  linear  perspective  of  a 
small  drawing-room,  where  the  window-light,  more- 
over, is  comfortably  low. 

Dora  Newbiggin  had  callers  all  day  long.  The 
front-door  was  generally  open,  and  the  road  was  so 
near  to  the  front-door  that  to  "  drop  in  for  a  mo- 
ment "  was  hardly  otherwise  than  going  on  about 
their  business,  and  the  lazy  might  sit  silent  for  an 
hour  with  an  unsmoked  cigarette,  and  the  lively 
might  make  music  on  various  instruments  or  listen 
to  it,  and  the  hungry  one  or  the  thirsty  was  sure 
of  excellent  refreshment,  and  it  was  asked  of  him 
or  of  her  only  to  be  civil  and  unceremonious,  and 
to  take  nothing  too  seriously. 

Keen,  open-eared  young  sparks,  diners-out,  club- 

184 


HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE  185 

men,  Caradon  Bolitho  and  Jack  Newbiggin  knew 
that  rumour  was  abroad  concerning  Avis,  but  they 
were  accustomed  to  the  Athenian  malice  of  their 
capital,  and  heard  it  with  a  shrug  and  an  explana- 
tory acknowledgment  of  our  heroine's  beauty,  and 
it  was  not  till  the  dart  of  the  Live  Un  that  they 
became  serious.  It  happened  that  the  household 
was  breakfasting  together. 

"  Let  it  be  understood,"  said  Pheenie,  "  that  this 
establishes  no  precedent.  Had  I  known  that  the 
three  of  you  were  up  and  down,  I  would  have  taken 
another  bath  or  gone  back  to  bed  to  put  in  another 
half -hour,  anyhow.  I  might  as  well  be  in  my  own 
house,  if  anything  is  expected  of  me  at  breakfast- 
time." 

Jack  Newbiggin  was  reading  the  Live  Un. 
There  was  no  subscription  for  it  at  the  Den,  but 
somehow  its  flaring  cover  appeared  there  invari- 
ably, and  it  was  read  with  shrugs,  or  chuckles,  or 
indignation,  without  malice,  but  as  a  matter  of 
course.  Jack  encountered  the  particular  paragraph, 
whistled  with  consternation,  and  threw  the  journal 
over  to  Caradon,  who,  having  also  read,  flushed 
angrily,  declared  the  matter  past  bearing,  swore  to 
thrash  the  editor,  and  passed  the  print  to  his  wife. 
She  took  the  matter  more  calmly,  finished  her 
coffee,  brushed  a  crumb  of  toast  from  the  lace  of 
her  morning-gown,  and  said  coolly  : 

"  Well,  you  know  what  the  Live  Un  is.  I  don't 
see  that  we  can  do  anything." 

"  Can't  do  anything !  when  it's  my  mother  and 
my  adopted — cousin !  Something  must  be  done !  " 


186  HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE 

"  What,  pray  ?    There  is  a  mystery  about  Avis." 

"  Bunkum  !  Some  fellow  in  England  jilted  her 
when  she  was  in  her  teens,  and  she  has  chosen  to 
sulk  about  it  ever  since,  that's  all." 

"  Chosen  to  sulk  at  a  distance  of  twelve  thousand 
miles,  and  the  back-blocks  at  that ! " 

"  None  of  your  Melbourne  airs,  Pheenie.  To  my 
knowledge  you've  never  been  within  a  hundred 
miles  of  the  back-blocks  in  your  life." 

Caradon  resented  depreciation  of  Wamagatta. 

"  Her  health,  wasn't  it  ?  "  said  Dora  Newbiggin 
artlessly. 

"Health?  Well,  perhaps,"  drawled  Pheenie. 
"  Certainly  New  South  Wales  agrees  with  her.  She 
rode  twenty  miles  on  a  hired  horse,  a  notorious 
puller,  in  a  black  northeaster  the  other  day,  and 
spent  the  evening  listening  to  German  chamber 
music.  My  health  wouldn't  bear  that,  I  know." 

"  Oh,  these  red-headed  people !  "  said  Jack  New- 
biggin  ;  "  they've  the  deuce  and  all  of  '  vim '  in  'em. 
And  look  at  her  shoulders !  there's  lungs  for  you ! " 

"  It  was  her  lungs,"  said  Pheenie  faintly. 

"Confound  her  lungs!  What  are  you  driving 
at  ?  "  demanded  Caradon,  wrathful.  "  Do  you  mean 
to  infer  that  Avis  is  a  shady  character,  and  that  my 
mother  either  does  or  does  not  know  it  ?  " 

"  My  dear  husband,  I  never  could  infer  anything 
satisfactory,"  answered  his  wife.  "  I  gave  up  the 
attempt  long  ago;  but  your  'cousin's'  honour  is 
my  own." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Dora ;  and  as  she  took  her  time 
to  read  the  paragraph,  she  wondered,  repeating  her 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  187 

"  of  course,"  whether  the  honour  of  the  adopted 
cousin  of  a  friend's  husband  could  be  said  to  be 
one's  own.  On  such  a  scale,  it  seemed  to  her,  were 
established  vendetta  and  its  responsibilities. 

"  Sydney  will  be  all  agog  with  it,"  said  Caradon. 
"  My  mother  and  Avis  will  be  stared  at  wherever 
they  go." 

"They'll  be  none  the  wiser,"  said  Pheenie. 
"  They  wouldn't  lay  a  little  finger  on  the  Live  Un." 

"  See  what  comes  to  us  of  touching  pitch,"  said 
Jack  remorsefully.  "  And  you  can't  do  anything, 
you  know,  Caradon ;  you  can  only  leave  it  to  the 
grand  ignorance  of  the  Yolumnias  of  the  squattoc- 
racy — splendid  mouthful  that ! " 

" '  Aureolined '  is  abominable!  I  should  mind 
that  part,"  observed  Dora. 

"You  are  not  Avis,"  answered  Pheenie.  "I 
know  myself  the  superb  disdain  of  one's  fellow- 
creatures  that  comes  of  being  thoroughly  well 
dressed,  but  I  imagine  it  to  be  nothing  at  all  com- 
pared with  the  disdain  of  being  thoroughly  hand- 
some. I  remember  a  bicycling  journeyman  parson, 
Oxford  classic,  who  spent  a  night  at  "Wamagatta. 
Avis  chose  to  be  particularly  shabby  that  evening, 
and  as  mum  as  a  mute.  But  the  poor  young  man 
gazed  at  her  hungrily  as  long  as  she  vouchsafed  to 
show  herself  to  his  eyes,  and  then  confided  to  me 
(to  me,  who  am  nothing  if  not  modern)  that  he  felt 
as  if  he  had  been  introduced  to  Olympus." 

"  Who  wrote  the  thing,  that's  what  I  want  to 
know  ?  "  fumed  Caradon. 

"  You  may  want.    Are  you  going  to  walk  with 


188  HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE 

me  to  my  place  of  business  this  morning  ?  "  returned 
his  host,  who  was  a  member  of  the  Junior  Bar,  not 
yet  in  great  request. 

"  My  place  of  business  to-day  is  the  office  of  the 
Live  Un  ;  and  my  business  there  is  to  break  every 
bone  in  the  editor's  vile  body,"  returned  the  other, 
full  of  rancour. 

The  gate  clicked,  and  a  damsel  in  spotless  print, 
scarlet-hatted,  rustling  with  starch,  overflowing 
with  lively  words,  entered  upon  the  breakfast-party 
and  presented  them  with  plans  for  the  day. 

The  Wenbans  and  the  Newbiggins  lived  on  dif- 
ferent planes,  and  guests  at  Gaza  saw  but  little,  ex- 
cept by  special  effort,  of  the  guests  at  the  Den. 
Caradon  said  of  his  mother  during  the  following 
days,  when  the  social  air  was  full  of  conjecture  and 
resolution  about  Avis,  that  she  lived  in  a  fool's  par- 
adise, than  which  there  are  certainly  many  worse 
places  of  residence,  and  if  permanence  could  be  in- 
sured for  it,  no  man  would  live  elsewhere  than  in 
his  favourite  folly.  Pheenie  reflected  considerably. 
She  had  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  world  she 
lived  in,  and  of  her  own  power  as  a  young  matron 
without  fear  or  reproach,  and  she  decided  that  its 
benefit  should  be  given  to  Avis,  as  to  one  who  had 
been  entertained  by  her  own  mother-in-law,  an  ad- 
mirable woman,  with  sons  to  whom  she  was  devoted, 
whose  happiness  would  never  have  been  endangered 
by  an  undesirable  proximity.  Pheenie  did  not, 
however,  like  the  position,  and  would  have  given 
much  to  know  the  true  facts  of  it. 

A  week  later  the  inhabitants  of  the  Den  found 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  189 

themselves  bidden  to  dine  at  Gaza.  The  Wenbans 
were  lazy  in  hospitality,  and  when  they  gave  din- 
ners, it  was  on  a  large  scale,  which  betrayed  effort 
and  insured  infrequency.  Pheenie  was  curious  to 
see  who  had  been  brought  together  to  do  honour  to 
Mrs.  Bolitho  and  Miss  Fletcher.  Fourteen  persons 
awaited  the  butler's  announcement  in  the  big  draw- 
ing-room. Besides  the  house-party,  the  Newbig- 
gins,  herself  and  her  husband,  there  were  present 
Sir  Osbert  Wavertree,  an  English  baronet,  com- 
manding H.M.S.  Mollyhawk,  of  the  squadron,  and 
his  daughter;  Judge  McKinnon,  of  the  Supreme 
Court,  a  widower,  shrewd  and  humorous;  and  a 
couple  known  generally  as  the  Jimmy  Winches, 
being  an  Australian  barrister  in  large  practice  and 
his  young  wife,  pretty,  a  little  malicious  through 
emptiness  of  head,  not  above  a  moderate  flirtation. 
The  hostess  and  the  Wavertrees  excepted,  there 
was  no  one  among  them  to  whom  Avis  wasn't  for 
the  moment,  if  no  more,  a  chief  interest.  To  Mrs. 
Bolitho  she  was  a  sick  child ;  to  the  men  of  the 
house  she  was  a  rising  sun,  whose  dazzle  filled  the 
world  ;  to  the  guests,  in  varying  aspect,  she  was  the 
victim  of  the  Live  Un ;  and  she  knew  it  all,  and 
prescribed  for  herself  accordingly.  She  knew  that 
they  would  all  look  at  her ;  looks,  therefore,  should 
be  invited,  compelled,  lest  they  should  seem  to  be 
feared.  She  dressed  herself  in  silk  brocade,  col- 
oured like  a  rich  red  orange,  with  a  necklet — a  val- 
uable family  ornament,  of  gold,  enamelled  in  green 
and  red,  said  to  be  true  Kenaissance  work — round 
the  ivory  of  her  throat.  She  came  in  last  upon  the 


190  HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE 

company,  wearing  a  smile  carefully  practiced  before 
the  mirror — a  smile  in  which  there  was  no  human 
emotion  whatever;  a  smile  that  was  merely  bril- 
liant. Mrs.  Bolitho,  to  whom  the  dress  and  manner 
were  entirely  new,  thought,  in  delight,  "  How  splen- 
did my  girl  looks  ! "  Pheenie,  intensely  critical, 
with  her  long-handled  eyeglass,  saluted  a  success- 
ful audacity.  Mrs.  Jimmy  Winch  pursed  her  lips, 
and  made  an  instantaneous  mental  conclusion  in 
favour  of  the  aureoline  hypothesis.  Dora  Newbig- 
gin  was  puzzled,  and  said  to  herself,  "  No  wonder 
they  talk  !  "  Miss  Wavertree,  an  amateur  in  paint- 
ing, made  a  step  forward,  and  whispered  impul- 
sively to  the  Judge  at  her  elbow, "  Oh,  what  a  lovely 
Titian  creature !  Why  can't  I  do  portraits  ?  "  The 
men  accepted  her,  staring  from  all  points  like  a 
mob  of  cattle — accepted  her  variously,  in  regard  of 
their  previous  conception,  as  the  female  regnant 
triumphant.  Avis  felt  it  all,  and  despised  every  one 
of  them.  "  Monkeys !  slaves  of  the  eye ! "  she 
called  them  behind  her  unaltered  smile.  "  A  large 
doll  would  attract  you  all  equally.  The  fellow- 
being  nearly  desperate,  the  other  human  soul,  eter- 
nal, limitless,  lonely,  is  nothing  to  you.  Even  the 
handsome  body  would  fail  to  stir  you  if  it  were 
shabbily  clothed,  but  you  are  all  respectful  and  ad- 
miring because  I  fitted  it  with  costly  yellow,  and 
submitted  my  distracted  head  to  a  hairdresser." 
The  anger  was  unfair.  She  had  accomplished  her 
purpose ;  their  scattered  purpose  did  but  acknowl- 
edge the  power  of  concentrated  will.  We  know, 
however,  that  justice  is  not  of  earth. 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  191 

Mrs.  Wenban  beamed  upon  the  company  as  they 
filed  away  before  her,  and  her  companion,  the 
baronet,  answered  her  smile  of  contentment,  saying 
whimsically : 

"  Wonderful  what  pretty  things  they  are,  pretty 
ladies." 

His  hostess  looked  at  him  in  perplexity. 

"  A  sailor,  you  know,  is  particularly  susceptible," 
he  continued.  "The  long  weeks  afloat  with  the 
ugly  sex.  I  have  been  cruising  lately  round  the 
islands,  and  I  feel  very  grateful  for  an  invitation 
to  eat  an  excellent  dinner  among  such  charming 
human  beings." 

"  Your  daughter  is  not  the  least  charming  of 
them,"  said  Mrs.  "Wenban  kindly,  looking  at  the 
well-grown  young  woman  with  the  blooming  cheek 
who  had  just  taken  her  seat  between  Caradon  and 
Robert. 

"  Her  father  likes  to  think  so,"  he  replied.  "  Our 
boasted  English  colouring  bears  any  setting.  But 
there  is  a  distinctly  Australian  complexion — per- 
haps I  should  call  it  distinctly  of  Sydney — which  I 
find  very  agreeable.  A  faint  uniform  tone. 
Whether  pink  or  brown,  shows  through  a  clear 
opacity,  if  I  may  be  allowed  a  paradox.  The  skin 
is  beautifully  clear  and  uniform,  the  tint  singularly 
delicate.  It  comes,  I  fancy,  from  the  damp  heat  of 
your  climate,  which  perhaps  lowers  vitality  while 
it  preserves  tissue.  Do  I  talk  nonsense  ?  " 

"  I  have  an  epicure  in  ladies'  looks  here,"  said 
Mrs.  Wenban,  leaning  across  him  to  Mrs.  Bolitho. 
"  What  shall  I  do  with  him  ?  " 


192  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

"  Tell  him  to  survey  the  house,"  was  the  quick 
answer,  as  she  glanced  over  the  table,  of  which  the 
low-lying  decorations  in  lilies,  orchids,  and  passion- 
flowers made  no  hindrance  to  sight  or  conversation. 
"  There  is  a  selected  variety  of  loveliness.  I  have 
heard  that  Sir  Osbert  is  given  to  epigram  ;  he  will 
find  none  that  will  include  so  much  variety." 

"  And  yet,"  said  Judge  McKinnon,  her  compan- 
ion, "  men  are  apt  to  say  that  women  are  all  alike." 

"  You  take  my  words  out  of  my  mouth,"  said 
Mrs.  Bolitho.  "  A  sign  that  age  advances.  Twenty 
years  ago  not  even  the  flippancy  of  the  Bar  could 
have  got  in  a  sentence  before  me." 

"  I  apologise ;  but  I  knew  the  observation  had  to 
come,"  said  the  Judge,  "  and  you  Bush  people  get 
very  leisurely  in  your  ways.  A  month  in  Sydney, 
now " 

"  And  you  would  do  as  I  always  do  when  my 
dinner-mate  has  a  bright  hazel  eye — you  would 
wait  for  the  champagne  to  cross  swords  with  her." 
Sir  Osbert  finished  his  sentence. 

"  Keally,  between  you  two,"  the  Judge  objected, 
"  it  is  I  who  must  feel  superannuated.  I  had  best 
retire  from  the  board  and  the  Bench  together." 

"  You  believe  in  the  eye  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Bolitho. 

"  The  eye  for  the  wits  and  the  mouth  for  the 
heart,  madam  ;  that  is  my  rule  of  conduct." 

"  Oh  ay.  And  in  the  jurisdiction  of  courts-mar- 
tial it  doesn't  matter,  except  to  your  own  pride,  how 
often  it  misleads  you,"  said  Judge  McKinnon. 
"  Things  are  rare  and  easy  for  you  service  men.  Of 
what  use  for  a  man  in  my  position  to  be  opinioned 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  193 

in  the  matter  of  an  eye  or  a  mouth  ?  Pinioned  is 
he  by  the  respectable  stupidity  of  good  men  and 
true;  pegged  down,  I  tell  you,  by  the  myriad 
woodenhead  of  the  public !  " 

"  Nothing  for  nothing,  Mr.  McKinnon,"  said  Mrs. 
Bolitho  ;  "  they  can't  make  you  retire.  Sir  Osbert 
may — no  doubt  does — bluster  and  stamp  upon  his 
quarter-deck ;  but  his  days  are  numbered." 

"  True,"  said  the  Captain  sadly ;  "  and  there  will 
remain  no  outlet  to  me  except  an  occasional  letter 
to  the  Times.  Eheu  fugaces  !  Let  us  look  at  the 
young  people  !  I  grudge  them  no  whit  of  their 
advantages,  and  yet  I  would  that  my  veins  were 
still  elastic  enough  to  bound  in  due  appreciation  of 
that  golden  head  down  there." 

His  look  led  theirs  to  Avis,  graciously  accepting 
the  marked  attention  of  her  host,  and  the  continual 
observations  of  the  dark  shrewd  face  of  the  English 
surgeon,  and  the  comment  of  those  who  pleased. 

Pheenie,  regarding  her  at  her  ease  across  Jack 
New  biggin's  shirt-front,  drawled  to  him  softly : 

"  The  Live  Un  would  say  that  its  worst  informa- 
tion was  confirmed." 

"  Tremendous,  isn't  she  ?  "  he  murmured  back. 
"  What  a  header  Wenban  has  taken !  " 

"Dress,"  said  Judge  McKinnon,  in  a  moment's 
pause  in  the  general  conversation,  "  is  a  very  great 
force." 

"  Dressmakers,"  said  Mrs.  Jimmy  Winch  foolishly, 
"  are  a  very  great  fraud." 

"  Why,  I  wonder,  do  we  British  men  so  neglect 
it  ?  "  said  Dr.  Outram  in  strong,  rapid  tones. 


194  HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE 

"  "We  not  only  neglect  it,  we  contemn  it  utterly," 
said  Mr.  Winch. 

"  The  innate  vanity  of  your  sex,"  said  Avis  softly 
to  Caradon.  "  You  think  of  yourselves  as  of  beauty 
unadorned  adorned  the  most." 

Eobert  Wen  ban  heard  her,  and  aimed  his  voice  at 
her  as  he  turned  to  Miss  Wavertree. 

"  Yet  any  man  of  us  here,  I  suppose,"  he  said,  "  is 
entitled  to  wear  some  distinctive  dress,  more  or  less 
handsome,  in  sign  of  something  that  he  has  done  or 
does.  The  Judge  has  robes  and  a  wig,  Sir  Kobert 
has  his  uniform,  and  my  friend  Outram  is  a  popin- 
jay in  yellow  and  scarlet  as  a  London  Doctor  of 
Science,  and  purple  and  scarlet  as  something  else. 
Myself,  I  am  a  humble  Bachelor  of  Arts,  authorised 
to  hang  a  hood  of  rabbit's  fur  round  my  shoulders." 

"  To  say  nothing  of  the  cherry  stuff  gown  and 
the  engaging  little  fee-bags,"  said  Kewbiggin. 

"  Leave  me  out ;  I've  no  feathers  of  dignity,"  said 
Caradon. 

"  What,  not  your  polo  cap  and  shirt  ?  "  said  Avis. 

"  If  you  come  to  that,  there's  cricket  and  f oot- 
ball,"  he  said. 

"  Quite  so :  and  the  fox-hunter's  pink,  and  golf 
buttons  and  coats,  and —  Why,  I  believe  the  cy- 
cling clubs  have  some  distinguishing  bit  of  finery," 
Dora  Newbiggin  contributed  an  apposite  mite  of 
information. 

"The  fact  is,"  said  Miss  Wavertree,  "that  you 
men,  in  dress  as  elsewhere,  have  all  the  rights,  and 
we  women  have  none  ;  but  we  have  also  no  limits, 
and  so  we  assume  what  we  please." 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  195 

"  It  shows  the  little  value  of  rights,"  said  Mrs. 
Bolitho  ;•  "  a  fee-bag  in  Court,  a  cricket  cap  in  the 
field.  Give  me  privilege  !  " 

"  Madam,"  said  Sir  Osbert,  "  I  am  sure  you  have 
always  had  it.  I  should  like  to  say,  however,  that 
Judge  McKinnon  and  I  feel  the  highest  reverence 
for  the  uniforms  we  wear,  because  they  are  not  our 
own ;  they  are  Her  Majesty's." 

"  Which  proves  the  rule !  "  said  Mrs.  Bolitho  com- 
placently. 

"  In  praise  of  privilege  ! "  cried  Dr.  Outram.  "  I 
should  protest  if  I  heard  it  from  a  man,  but  from  a 
lady —  I  am  a  Radical,  I  suppose,  and  Mrs.  Wen- 
ban  calls  one  a  materialist  and  everything  that  is 
most  upsetting,  but  I  feel  there  must  be  privilege 
for  a  lady." 

Miss  Wavertree  laughed  that  she  appreciated  the 
liver-wing  of  the  chicken,  and  took  it  always  with- 
out any  self-reproach,  but  never,  in  her  own  soul, 
saw  any  reason  for  its  being  given  to  her. 

"The  whole  question  of  chivalry,"  said  Robert 
Wenban. 

"  Speaking  for  Bolitho  and  myself,  we  decline  the 
case,"  said  Jack  Newbiggin.  "  I  made  shift  to  learn 
the  language  of  law,  but  I  refuse  to  undertake  that 
of  chivalry." 

"  I  have  always  understood  that  law  and  chivalry 
are  opposed,"  said  Miss  Wavertree. 

"  Why,  of  course,"  said  the  Judge.  "  The  law  in 
chivalry  is  woman's  will." 

"  Which  claims  the  character  of  fools,"  said  Mrs. 
Bolitho. 


196  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

"  A  maxima  cfiarta"  suggested  Sir  Osbert. 

"  They're  too  clever  for  me  to-night,"  Mrs.  Winch 
complained  to  her  host.  "  Why  do  you  ask  ordi- 
nary people  to  meet  them  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  like  to  talk  about  ? "  he  asked 
her. 

"  Little  things — scandal,  cricket." 

"  I  am  so  sorry,"  he  said  gravely  ;  "  we  never  talk 
scandal  at  my  mother's  table,  and,  for  my  part,  I 
take  no  interest  whatever  in  cricket." 

"  A  duffer  at  it,  were  you  ?  "  she  returned.  "  Let 
us  talk  about  people,  then.  How  long  have  you 
known  Miss  Fletcher  ?  Who  is  she  ?  " 

"  An  Englishwoman,"  he  answered. 

"  I  could  tell  that  by  her  allowance  of  bone,"  re- 
plied Mrs.  Winch  coolly.  "  We  Cornstalks  are  often 
tall,  but  we  don't  run  as  massive  as  they  do  in  the 
old  country.  I  suppose  you  know  all  about  her  ?  " 

Wenban  bowed.  His  thoughts  were  too  much  on 
Avis  to  like  speech  concerning  her.  He  was  a  shy 
man  in  a  shy  mental  state.  Moreover,  he  knew  al- 
most nothing  about  her. 

"  I  love  England.  What  part  of  it  does  she  come 
from,  do  you  know  ?  "  persisted  Mrs.  Jimmy  Winch. 

Wenban  considered,  then  remembered. 

"  The  South,  I  believe ;  Southamptonshire  I  think 
I  have  heard.  Won't  you  try  that  curry  ?  I  know 
it  of  old." 

"  Thanks  ;  I  never  eat  hot  things,"  answered  the 
young  lady,  and  turned  away  to  Outram,  who  sat 
on  her  right,  asking :  "  What  part  of  England  do 
you  come  from  ?  " 


HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE  197 

"  From  the  monstrous  heart  of  it — London,"  he 
replied  promptly. 

"Are  you  globe-trotting,  then?"  she  continued 
idly. 

"No,  I  think  not." 

"  Going  to  settle  out  here  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  not." 

"  What  are  you  doing,  then,  if  one  may  ask  ?  "  she 
laughed. 

"  I  am  banqueting  in  heaven,  I  rather  fancy,"  he 
replied  slowly. 

"  Is  that  the  curry  ?  " 

"No,  the  angels." 

He  made  her  a  little  bow,  and  looked  all  round 
the  table,  his  eye  pausing,  as  Mrs.  Winch  expected, 
for  an  instant  at  Avis. 

"  And  the  old  ladies  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  like  them  best  of  all,"  he  answered,  and  lis- 
tened to  Avis,  who  was  telling  Judge  McKinnon 
across  the  table  that  she  had  often  thought  of  re- 
viving Bushranging  in  her  own  person. 

"  You'd  be  taken  directly,"  said  Caradon. 

"  I  can  ride,"  said  Avis. 

"  Yes,  but  you've  also  got  to  hide." 

"  There  are  unsurveyed  districts,  in  the  north  of 
the  colony,  absolutely  wild,"  she  answered ;  "  and  I 
can  shoot.  I  picture  the  dismay  of  the  lumbering 
coach-loads — commercial  travellers,  children  going 
between  home  and  school,  and  such-like,  when  I 
bail  them  up." 

"  She  is  extraordinarily  unfeminine,"  said  Mrs. 
Jimmy  Winch  to  the  man  on  either  side. 


198  HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE 

Outram,  resenting  the  criticism,  threw  it  boldly 
into  the  midst  of  the  company. 

"  It  is  suggested  that  the  Bushranger's  vocation 
is  unfeminine,"  he  said.  "Will  any  one  present 
define  *  unfeminine '  ?  " 

Mrs.  Winch  was  accustomed  to  better  treatment 
than  this.  She  knit  her  pretty  eyebrows,  and 
looked  at  her  husband,  who  answered  shortly : 

"  Definitions  are  often,  I  think,  merely  vexatious. 
There  are  certain  things  one  knows  instinctively  by 
common-sense ;  the  meaning  of  (  unfeminine '  is  one 
of  them." 

"  I  delight  in  definitions,"  said  Outram  stoutly, 
"  and  I  take  upon  myself  to  define  common-sense 
as  the  lowest  common  intellectual  factor.  I  ask, 
however,  for  the  meaning  of  '  unfeminine.' " 

"  If  you  would  make  it  feminine"  put  in  Pheenie, 
"I  would  reply,  among  other  things,  me." 

Every  one  present  turned  upon  her,  and  found  no 
cause  for  cavil  in  the  small  quaint  face,  the  long, 
slight  frame  in  elegant  tones  of  fawn-colour  and 
lilac. 

"  Every  lady  would  say  the  same,"  observed  Jack 
Newbiggin. 

"I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,"  answered  Miss 
Wavertree,  laughing.  "I  don't  accept  the  adjec- 
tive without  knowing  the  mind  of  him  who  applies 
it.  There  are  a  lot  of  men  who,  in  their  inmost 
hearts,  mean  by  feminine  foolish." 

"  I  mean  charming,"  replied  Jack. 

"  You  mean  goose !  "  retorted  his  wife.  "  You 
married  me !  What  do  you  think,  Judge  ?  " 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  199 

The  great  man  considered. 

"  If  she  will  only  be  beautiful,"  he  answered 
slowly,  "  she  may  do  anything,  and  it  will  be  right." 

"  Jupiter  nods !  "  cried  Mrs.  Bolitho,  with  a  ma- 
licious tap  of  her  fan  upon  his  arm. 

"  Rhadamanthus,  rather,"  said  Avis  softly,  to  no 
one  in  particular. 

"  I  am  certain  Joan  of  Arc  was  beautiful,"  put  in 
Sir  Osbert,  "  and  Grace  Darling  ;  and  we  know  that 
Nell  G wynne  was." 

"  I  protest !  "  said  Mrs.  Wenban  earnestly.  "  I 
don't  discuss  Joan  of  Arc,  though  I  cannot  think  a 
woman's  place  is  a  battle-field ;  and  I  could  not  im- 
agine any  one  caring  what  that  noble  creature 
Grace  Darling  looked  like;  but  Nell  Gwynne " 

"  I  brought  her  in  as  an  antithesis,  with  apology," 
said  Sir  Osbert. 

"  What  has  her  beauty  to  do  with  it  ?  "  continued 
Mrs.  Wenban. 

"Speaking  as  a  mere  man,  everything,"  an- 
swered the  Baronet  mildly ;  "  but  I  drift  into  deep 
waters." 

Mrs.  Wenban,  with  the  obstinacy  of  the  gentle, 
persisted  :  "  You  were  talking  about  beauty  making 
things  right."  She  looked  at  the  elder  men  indig- 
nantly. 

"  The  Bench  gives  judgment  on  evidence,  noth- 
ing more,"  answered  Judge  McKinnon  with  a 
shrug,  and  helped  himself  to  iced  gooseberry-fool. 

"  Do  you  mean,"  said  Mrs.  Bolitho,  enjoying  the 
argument,  "  that  you  would  take  beauty  as  excul- 
patory evidence  ?  " 


200  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

"  For  the  men,"  he  answered. 

"  And  against  the  women  ?  " 

"  Well,  now,  ask  yourself,"  he  said  deprecatingly. 

"  Excuse  me,  Judge.  It  is  the  men  who  must  be 
asked,"  cried  Mrs.  Bolitho,  with  indignation  that 
was  touched  with  sincerity.  "  Do  you  mean  that 
beauty  in  women  makes  right  in  man  and  wrong  in 
her  at  one  and  the  same  time  ?  " 

"  I  often  sympathise  when  I  have  to  condemn," 
he  replied ;  "  but  really — my  position — these  young 
people — our  old  friendship,  Mrs.  Bolitho,  and  the 
excellence  of  the  fool !  I  leave  these  deep  waters 
to  Sir  Osbert." 

"  Allow  me  to  bring  my  seniors  back  to  the  point 
— unfemininity,"  said  Outram  sternly. 

"  Whatever  a  man  likes  for  herself,"  said  Dora 
]STewbiggin;  "divided  garments,  crossed  legs,  a 
good  dinner  and  a  cigarette,  freedom  of  speech, 
power  of  the  purse " 

"  Masculinity  in  that  ?  "  said  Dr.  Outram. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Dora,  and  added  softly:  "All 
the  comfortable  things  of  life." 

"  Who's  the  goose  now  ?  "  demanded  her  husband. 
"  What  about  the  trenches  at  Sebastopol,  and  the 
outposts  of  the  Indian  Empire,  and " 

"  Personal  feeling  appears  perpetually  in  this  ar- 
gument," Outram  declared.  "  Is  it  that  you  are  all 
hopelessly  unscientific,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  that 
you  cannot  keep  to  impersonal  facts  ?  " 

Sir  Osbert  Wavertree  and  Mrs.  Bolitho  ex- 
changed a  glance  of  enlightenment.  "  You  say  it," 
she  told  him  with  a  smile,  and  he  leant  forward, 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  201 

his  pleasant,  grey-bearded  face  twinkled  with 
humorous  lines,  as  he  claimed  the  company's  atten- 
tion. 

"Dr.  Outram,  and  fellow-diners,  the  reason  is 
exactly  there.  Masculine,  feminine,  are  the  most 
personal  and  relative  facts — of  conditions.  Elimi- 
nate the  personal,  and  who  cares  if  another  is 
masculine  or  feminine  ?  The  world  might  well  be 
of  one  sex.  We  must  all  disagree  here.  I  want  a 
feminine  to  my  masculine,  and  if  she  be  only 
feminine  to  me,  then,  whatever  her  qualities,  she  is 
my  type  of  womanhood.  If  she  be  not  the  feminine 
of  me,  then  what  care  I  how  feminine  she  be  ? 
May  I  propose  a  toast,  Mrs.  "Wenban?  and  you 
ladies  can  also  drink  it  mutato  nomine:  'The 
feminine  of  me ! ' " 

"  You  and  I  are  drinking  to  our  past,"  said  Judge 
McKinnon,  as  he  set  down  his  glass. 

Mrs.  Jimmy  Winch,  not  greatly  concerned  for 
her  husband's  health,  had  eyes  to  notice  that  two 
men  drank  to  Avis,  who  for  her  part  just  tasted  the 
wine,  as  unresponsive  as  civility  allowed. 

"  You  might  as  well  have  spared  my  poor  little 
remark,"  said  Mrs.  Winch  to  the  surgeon,  with  some 
sharpness.  "  You  got  no  definition,  only  general 
fireworks." 

"Very  good  fireworks,  some  of  them,"  he  an- 
swered ;  "  that  is  my  excuse." 

The  ladies  left  the  room,  Avis  going  last,  slowly, 
with  Mrs.  Bolitho  on  her  arm.  Sir  Osbert  and  the 
gentlemen  of  the  house  watched  them  along  the 
hall  in  their  striking  contrast :  the  faultless  figure 


202  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

in  its  golden  audacity,  the  train  of  rich-hued  silk 
unrolling  stately  in  its  wake;  the  little  limping 
form,  keen  with  points  of  diamonds,  its  little  brown 
hand  clutching  and  sparkling  on  the  knob  of  the 
supporting  ebony. 

Sir  Osbert  turned  to  his  host,  who  stood  by  him. 

"I  shall  thank  you  henceforth  for  a  valuable 
memory,"  he  said,  and  as  he  spoke  he  made  a  note 
of  the  man's  expression — "  The  feminine  of  Robert 
Wenban,  in  Robert  Wenban's  opinion ! " 

Avis  led  Mrs.  Bolitho  to  a  comparatively  cool 
seat  by  an  open  window,  and  herself  went  out  to 
the  verandah,  drawing  a  deep  breath.  It  was  a 
stifling  night.  The  air  was  dense  with  moisture, 
and  a  fallen  wind  stirred  languidly  from  the  north- 
east ;  the  savour  of  it  was  soft  and  tropical,  and 
mingled  with  the  heavy  scent  of  a  flowering  creeper 
that  grew  along  the  parapet — a  savour  of  abundant 
vegetation,  drawn  from  the  long  low  shores  of  the 
harbour.  The  wave  of  Bourke's  Bay  lapped  lazily 
on  the  sandy  fringe  beyond  the  garden  wall ;  ships 
at  anchor  in  Port  Jackson  showed  their  lights ;  a 
siren  wailed  piercingly.  The  sky  was  dark,  the 
stars  of  it  shining  ineffectually  through  the  vapour. 

Avis  felt  nothing  except  a  need  of  air,  to  brace 
her  for  the  coming  struggle,  but  the  tepid  fluid 
round  her  was  scarcely  such  that  it  should  edge  the 
mental  Excalibur  which  alone  she  feared  would 
stand  her  in  stead.  "Weary  of  the  dull  safety  of  her 
fortress,  she  had  ventured  into  the  open  field. 
What  were  her  arms  ?  Warning  shots  had  whizzed 
close  to  her ;  she  saw  the  face  of  her  fellow-crea- 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  203 

tures,  that  of  a  hostile  army.  What  was  her  de- 
fence against  them  ?  What  definite  gain  had  she 
set  before  herself  to  fight  for  ?  She  caught  her 
own  reflection  in  a  glass  door  curtained  within,  at 
an  end  of  the  verandah.  She  saw  herself  vaguely 
big  and  imposing,  full  of  colour.  "I  have  to  de- 
clare myself  their  equal ;  ah,  and  better  than  most," 
she  told  herself. 

The  siren  screamed  as  one  might  imagine  a 
demon  in  pain,  and  the  sound  ran  through  her  like 
a  sudden  despair.  "  Oh,  if  it  were  flesh  and  blood 
that  is  against  me  !  "  she  cried  in  her  heart ;  "  but 
it  is  principalities  and  powers,  the  spirit  of  high 
places  ;  the  laws  that  are  unwritten  and  unspoken ! " 
Her  arms  rose  and  fell  again  to  her  side,  expressive 
of  her  mood.  The  great  vague  figure  on  the  win- 
dow moved  likewise.  "  Alas,  poor  Titan  women  ! " 
she  thought,  "  defying  the  Gods  of  convention  !  " 
Again  as  often,  uncalled,  undesired,  there  came  the 
recollection  of  a  stalwart  shoulder  squaring  up  by 
her  own,  bringing  a  compelling  sense  of  strong 
service,  of  warm  sympathy,  of  a  strange  sweet 
union  of  souls.  The  enemy  was  upon  her.  Mrs. 
Winch,  pink-robed,  dainty,  a  little  disdainful,  came 
out  to  her,  leading  a  company — the  servant  with 
the  coffee-tray,  Dora  New  biggin  plying  a  large 
fan,  Miss  Wavertree,  talking  rapidly  in  a  pleasant 
voice  about  the  heat. 

"  Did  you  think  you  were  to  have  it  all  to  your- 
self outside  ?  "  said  Dora.  "  There  we  were,  the 
whole  pack  of  us,  gathered  about  the  window  like 
the  historical  witches  at  Calcutta,  and  Paula  Winch 


204  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

suggested  that  we  might  find  ourselves  cooler  in 
the  verandah." 

Avis  took  her  coffee  and  smiled  upon  them  all. 

"  We  ought  to  have  underground  chambers  this 
weather.  I  can't  think  why  we  don't,"  she  said. 

"  There's  a  trifle  of  air  stirring,"  called  Mrs. 
Winch,  looking  back  within.  "  Pheenie,  I  think 
it's  better  outside,  really." 

Pheenie  appeared  irresolute. 

"  Don't  talk  to  me ! "  she  said.  "  As  if  I  didn't 
know  your  Sydney  northeasters.  They  take  all 
the  curl  out  of  my  hair  and  my  spirits  together. 
No,  if  I  am  to  be  damp,  I  prefer  my  own  dampness 
to  that  of  the  atmosphere." 

Mrs.  Winch  laid  a  constraining  hand  upon  her, 
saying : 

"  Leave  the  drawing-room  to  the  dowagers  for 
their  nap." 

"  It's  the  mosquitoes  I  mind,"  said  Miss  Waver- 
tree,  flapping  round  herself  with  a  palm-leaf. 

"Oh,  do  they  bite  you?"  asked  Mrs.  Winch. 
"  They  don't  like  all  English  people ;  they  don't 
seem  to  touch  Miss  Fletcher." 

"  Oh,  are  you  English  ? "  cried  Miss  Wavertree, 
turning  to  Avis  eagerly,  glad,  as  is  the  way  of  her 
kind,  to  find  a  compatriot ;  glad  also  of  an  oppor- 
tunity for  speech  with  the  splendid  Titian  creature. 

They  were  a  singularly  equal  pair,  of  about  the 
same  age,  birth,  education,  each  of  more  than  or- 
dinary good  favour,  only  so  different  that  they 
might  be  the  better  friends ;  and  Miss  Wavertree 
advanced  in  friendly  salute,  which  Avis  would  fain 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  205 

have  returned  in  like  spirit,  but  she  knew  it  could 
not  be.  She  measured  distance  and  engaged  an 
adversary's  blade. 

"  Yes,  I  am  English,"  she  answered  quietly,  put- 
ting down  her  empty  cup ;  "  but  I  have  been  out 
here  so  long  that  mosquitoes  are  tired  of  me." 

"  And  you  never  give  them  a  rest,  like  most  of 
us  do,  by  going  home  for  a  trip,  do  you  ?  "  said 
Mrs.  Jimmy  Winch. 

Pheenie  regarded  the  young  lady  critically.  She 
would  act  second  to  Avis,  but  the  quarrel  was  none 
of  hers,  and  the  lines  of  attack  and  defence  were 
unknown.  She  took  a  seat  and  waited. 

"  No,  I  have  never  been  home  since  I  came  out," 
said  Avis,  smiling. 

"  And  is  that  long  ?  "  inquired  Miss  Wavertree, 
very  amiable,  very  much  interested  in  her  radiant 
countrywoman,  full  of  admiration  also  for  the  gold 
necklet  with  its  lovely  red  and  green  enamel. 

"  Eight  years." 

"  Dear  me !  Surely  you  are  sometimes  home- 
sick." 

"  One  is  everything  by  turns." 

Mrs.  Winch  grew  impatient.  The  combatants 
were  not  advancing  at  all ;  they  were  saluting  at 
the  greatest  possible  length.  She  must  force  the 
stranger  to  attack. 

"  Didn't  I  hear  some  one  say  that  you  two  belong 
to  the  same  county  ?  "  she  said. 

Pheenie  and  Dora  Newbiggin  exchanged  glances. 
They  appreciated  the  position  keenly.  They  knew 
enough  of  England  to  understand  the  clannishness 


206  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

of  the  county,  the  divine  right  of  inquiry  given  to 
Miss  Wavertree  by  the  announcement  of  such  kin- 
ship. Paula  Winch  had  forced  the  wrist  of  Avis, 
and  she  stood  suddenly  inviting  in  tierce.  Miss 
Wavertree  feinted  gladly. 

"  Oh,  do  you  really  belong  to  Southamptonshire  ?  " 
she  asked.  "  Then  you  must  know  our  old  place, 
Wavertree.  Bere  is  our  village  and  station  and 
post-town  and  everything." 

Avis  passed  the  feint,  accepting  it. 

"  I  remember,"  she  said ;  "  pond  with  lots  of  yel- 
low irises,  and  main  street  mostly  chequered 
houses." 

"  Yes,  yes !  "  cried  Miss  Wavertree  joyfully  ; 
"  such  a  dear  place !  I  am  so  glad  you  know  it.  I 
dare  say  we  know  some  of  the  same  people,  too. 
What  is  your  part  ?  Anywhere  near  mine  ?  " 

Full  lunge  and  hit.  Mrs.  Winch  smiled.  Mrs. 
Newbiggin  leaned  a  little  forward  with  parted  lips. 
Mrs.  Caradon  Bolitho  seemed  to  grow  more  limp  in 
her  chair. 

Avis  took  the  hit,  and  acknowledged  it  fully. 
Standing  firmly  erect  and  smiling  as  before,  she  an- 
swered in  clear  tones,  scorning  evasion : 

"I  belong  to  the  other  side  of  the  county,  the 
west.  Coleminster  is  our  town.  Do  you  remem- 
ber the  cathedral  chimes  ?  They  play  every  three 
hours  except  when  service  is  going  on.  They  be- 
gin with  '  Life  let  us  cherish.' " 

A  passion  of  homesickness  swept  over  her  as  she 
spoke ;  the  smile  died  out.  The  gas-lit  verandah, 
the  steamy,  tropical  night,  the  heavy  odours,  the 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  207 

four  young  women  in  bright  array  faded,  and  in- 
stead sweet  faltering  notes  from  old,  old  bells 
floated  about  an  exquisite  Gothic  spire,  which  rose 
straight  from  a  broad  lawn,  faultless  with  the  care 
of  centuries.  In  the  great  elm,  greening  with 
spring,  the  pairing  rooks  cawed.  For  an  instant 
she  was  entirely  detached  from  her  surroundings ; 
then  she  saw  sympathy  beaming  from  Miss  Waver- 
tree's  charming  eyes,  and  warm  words  declared : 

"  I  love  those  chimes,  too." 

Avis  was  conscious  of  a  swift  impulse  toward 
friendship ;  then,  recollecting,  she  hid  herself  be- 
hind the  new  non-committing  smile,  and  went  on 
with  the  tale  expected  of  her : 

"I  will  introduce  myself.  You  will  know  the 
name  of  my  uncle,  Mr.  Wilbraham  of  Wilswick ; 
my  mother  and  my  stepfather,  Mr.  Bengough,  live 
at  his  place,  Wilsdean.  My  father,  who  is  dead, 
was  Vicar  of  Coles  wick,  where  I  was  born.  Do  all 
these  names  mean  anything  to  you  ?  " 

Avis  spoke  lightly,  but  she  watched  Miss  "Wa- 
vertree's  face,  and  the  other  three  watched  them 
both.  Miss  Wavertree  looked  puzzled,  hesitated. 

"  Of  course  I  know  your  uncle,"  she  said ;  "  one 
of  the  kindest  of  the  bluff  old  Tory  squire  school, 
and — and — "  She  paused.  "Are  you,  then,  the 
absent  daughter  of  that  very,  that  particularly 
handsome  Mrs.  Bengough  of  Wilsdean  ?  I  have  so 
often  seen  her  driving  about  the  lanes  when  I  have 
been  staying  with  the  Wigans." 

She  seemed  speaking  to  cover  her  thoughts.  Her 
face  flushed  slightly ;  the  poise  of  her  head  became 


208  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

a  little  stiff.  She  looked  at  Avis,  still  erect  and 
smiling,  with  an  expression  in  which  distress,  depre- 
cation, politeness  to  a  fellow-guest  were  mingled 
yet  distinct.  There  was  no  unkindness  ;  no  further 
question.  The  three  who  watched  them  were  im- 
pressed chiefly  with  a  sense  of  Miss  Wavertree's  re- 
gret. 

"  Thank  you  so  much,  Miss  Fletcher,  for  so  kindly 
telling  me  about  yourself.  Your  mother  is  so  de- 
lightfully handsome  and  regal-looking,  and  so  good  / 
every  one  in  the  county  knows  that  she  is  as  good 
as  she  is  handsome." 

Miss  Wavertree  bowed  slightly,  Miss  Fletcher 
bowed  slightly,  the  one  a  little  more  pink,  the  other 
a  little  more  pale,  but,  except  for  the  throbbing  out 
cry  in  the  throat,  apparently  unmoved  and  at  her 
ease. 

Dora  and  Pheenie  exchanged  a  glance  of  agree- 
ment— "There  is  something!"  Then  said  Dora 
aloud,  with  a  puff  of  protest : 

"  The  northeaster  is  entirely  gone." 

"Bet  you  two  to  one  in  shillings,"  drawled 
Pheenie,  "  that  we  have  a  southerly  within  a  quar- 
ter of  an  hour." 

"  Done,"  said  Dora. 

A  stick  tapped  on  the  tiles,  and  Mrs.  Bolitho 
joined  them,  saying : 

"  I  will  not  have  a  horsy  daughter  to  my  house ! " 

"  Oh,  we  all  know,"  said  Mrs.  "Winch  impudently, 
"  it  is  a  patent  of  nobility — as  things  go  in  a  new 
country,  of  course — to  be  allowed  inside  Mrs.  Boli- 
tho's  house." 


HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE  209 

"  You  have  never  been  there,  my  dear,  have  you  ?  " 
said  the  elder  lady  dryly ;  and  Dora  laughed. 

Miss  Wavertree,  still  with  a  troubled  expression, 
pulled  a  spray  of  ficus  that  grew  on  a  verandah 
pillar.  Avis  fanned  herself  leisurely  and  took  a 
seat. 

"  Oh,  not  me !  not  frisky  young  matrons ! "  said 
Mrs.  Winch,  and  looked  at  Avis. 

"  True,"  said  Mrs.  Bolitho,  following  the  look, 
"  one  frisky  old  dowager  is  enough  for  one  house, 
and  I  have  had  to  mate  her  with  a  golden  statue  of 
a  girl  to  make  the  balance  right." 

Mrs.  Winch  tossed  her  head. 

"  Our  conversation  has  been  so  interesting,"  she 
said.  "Miss  Wavertree  knows  all  about  Miss 
Fletcher's  people  at  home,  and  all  about  herself, 
and  they  have  become,  as  you  see,  the  greatest  im- 
aginable friends  at  once." 

Now,  Miss  Wavertree  at  a  little  distance,  stand- 
ing gracefully  by  the  parapet,  was  plucking  at  the 
spray  of  ficus  with  an  absent  and  troubled  profile, 
and  Miss  Fletcher,  sitting  down  several  yards  nearer, 
wore  her  fixed  smile  of  absolute  indifference.  Dora 
and  Pheenie  exchanged  another  glance,  which 
meant  "  Brat ! "  Mrs.  Bolitho,  seizing  the  main  facts 
by  intuition,  turned  to  the  young  Englishwoman 
with  her  most  encouraging  air. 

"  Are  my  old  friends  yours,  then  ?  How  pleas- 
ant for  us  all !  But  Sydney  is  a  place  where  there 
is  no  time  to  make  new  friends  ;  you  must  come  to 
us  at  Wamagatta,  Miss  Wavertree,  and  we  will  all 
talk  over  everything  English  that  we  know." 


210  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

Miss  "Wavertree's  answer  remained  unheard,  for 
the  southerly  blast  struck  the  house  at  that  instant. 
Every  door,  wide  open  for  air,  slammed  like  a  gun- 
shot, every  window  strained  and  rattled ;  the  trees 
in  the  garden  roared  and  rustled  wildly ;  the  har- 
bour lights  were  blotted  out  in  a  storm  of  dust ; 
the  temperature  fell  immediately  several  degrees 
as  the  fierce,  cold  wave  swirled  over  the  land. 
Further  diversion  was  caused  by  the  appearance  of 
the  men,  and  in  a  moment  the  verandah  was  empty 
of  all  but  dust  and  Avis,  who  lingered,  bracing  her 
bare  neck  to  the  wind.  Dr.  Outram,  missing  her 
among  the  company  of  ladies,  stepped  out  to  advise 
her  against  a  chill.  Her  answer  startled  him. 

"  Do  I  look  like  illness  of  any  sort  ?  Yet  some- 
times in  the  midst  of  life  one  may  wish  one's  self  in 
death." 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  shearing  was  over  at  Burrabindar.  The 
wool  teams  were  away  with  the  wool-bales;  the 
wool-shed  was  empty;  the  denuded  sheep  were 
given  back  to  their  spacious  monotony  of  sunlight, 
wherein  to  forget  their  helplessness,  their  wounds 
and  their  alarms.  In  the  twilight  of  his  common- 
room,  deep  within  the  verandah,  the  open  windows 
wired  against  mosquitoes  and  darkened  with  fold- 
ing blinds,  Hazell  sat  and  cleaned  his  weapons  till 
they  might  have  been  shown  in  the  shop  of  a  Bond 
Street  gunsmith,  and  when  their  radiance  defied 
improvement,  he  whiled  away  the  days  in  devising 
a  bag  of  double  canvas  by  means  of  which  a  wall 
of  water  might  keep  his  butter  from  relapsing  into 
oil  as  soon  as  it  had  been  reclaimed  from  milk.  He 
was  an  ingenious  fellow,  and  could  sew  like  a 
sailor ;  but  the  work  was  dreary,  dreary.  Sitting 
thus,  one  hot  morning,  when  the  ferocious  sun,  only 
four  hours  up,  had  raised  the  shade  temperature  to 
85°,  and  the  flies  buzzed  triumphantly  in  the  in- 
vigoration  of  it,  he  heard  a  slow  step  on  the  un- 
carpeted  passage,  and  a  dry  voice  saying : 

"  Oh  ay  !     I'll  find  him." 

The  unexpected  figure  of  Alexander  Proudfoot, 
clothed  in  dusty  black  alpaca,  appeared  at  the  door, 
with  an  unsmiling  request. 
211 


212  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

"  Muster  Hazell,  may  I  request  the  favour  of  a 
breakfast  ?  " 

A  human  being — one  might  say  a  friend  !  The 
squatter  welcomed  him,  gave  him  the  great  arm- 
chair, turned  down  his  own  shirt-sleeves  in  compli- 
ment to  a  guest,  and  went  out  to  the  kitchen  at 
the  back,  to  order  the  opening  of  a  tin  of  Finnan 
haddies. 

"Ye  might  hae  been  awa',"  said  the  visitor,  as 
they  ate  together,  "  wi'  the  maist  o'  the  sheep  farm- 
ers o'  the  distreect ;  but  there  was  nae  word  o'  yeer 
passing  through  Beulah  lately,  and  I  thocht  I'd 
reesk  it." 

"  Sydney  attracts  me  very  feebly,"  answered  Ha- 
zell. "My  friends — so  far  as  a  fogey  of  my  age 
can  be  said  to  have  any  friends  left — are  not  on 
this  side  of  the  world,  and  I  have  seen  so  many 
cities.  But  I  suppose  the  countryside  is  empty  ?  " 

"  Juist  aboot  that.  They're  all  awa'  to  the  me- 
tropolis, to  discoont  their  wool  sales  by  hotel  bills." 

"  Better  wait  a  bit.  The  crop  this  year  is  light. 
Yes,  indeed ;  I  know  little  enough  about  my  neigh- 
bours, and  care  less,  but  I  had  fancied  one  or  two 
days  lately,  when  I  was  up  the  run,  that  the  world 
seemed  even  quieter  than  usual.  Shows  what  fancy 
will  do." 

"  I'm  not  sae  sure.  There's  a  feeling  in  the  air 
when  things  are  brisk,  why  not  when  they  are 
dull?" 

"  Three  leagues  from  the  nearest  station-house  ?  " 

"  And  why  not  ?  I'm  no  great  believer  in  dis- 
tance and  space  and  such-like  human  leemits. 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  213 

There's  something  in  the  human  soul,  Muster  Ha- 
zell,  that's  above  and  beyont  the  leemits  o'  the  hu- 
man body.  Do  ye  remember  the  words  o'  Carlyle 
— Thomas  Carlyle — and  though  I'm  not  altogether 
o'  his  opeenion  in  many  ways,  there's  no  gainsayin' 
that  he  had  the  speerit  o'  the  Lard  in  vayrious  mat- 
ters :  '  Is  not  the  dead,  the  dear,  the  distant,  while 
I  love  it  and  mourn  it  and  look  for  it,  as  truly  here, 
in  the  real  sense,  as  the  ground  I  stand  on ? '" 

Hazell  started  involuntarily  as  one  touched  inti- 
mately, and  stared  a  little,  wondering  to  himself  if 
all  Scotsmen  were  born  dominies,  or  divines,  or 
philosophers ;  then  replied,  English  fashion : 

"I  am  a  man  of  action.  I  am  afraid  Carlyle  is 
out  of  my  beat." 

"  It's  a  guid  thing,  action,"  answered  the  general 
merchant  sententiously,  "and  while  we're  in  it, 
there  seems  to  be  naething  else  worth  considering ; 
but  when  the  time  comes,  as  it  comes  to  the  maist 
active  o'  us  a',  that  we  canna  act,  then  we  find  that 
the  real  life  is  in  the  things  thocht,  and  the  only 
comfort  is  there ;  and  the  man  that  has  given  a 
new  hope  to  his  fellow-man  has  done  mair  than  he 
who  gave  him  chloroform." 

"  Well,  well ;  may  be.  Hope,  of  course — the  hope 
of  recovered  health — would  certainly  encourage  one 
to  bear  the  surgeon's  knife ;  but  then,  if  one  had  no 
hope,  Mr.  Proudfoot,  what  about  the  advantages  of 
chloroform  ?  "  Hazell  smiled  bitterly,  and  changed 
the  subject.  "  What  about  the  advantages  this  mo- 
ment as  ever  is  of  tobacco  ?  " 

"I  never  smoke  before  night." 


214  HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE 

"A  strange  house — a  day  out!"  Hazell  urged, 
rising  to  get  his  cigar-case. 

"  Na,  na ;  I  cannot  change  a'  ma  ways  at  once." 

Proudfoot  shook  his  head. 

"  All  right ;  and  I'm  off  my  own  smoke  lately. 
It's  a  craving  some  men  outgrow,  you  know — out- 
wear, perhaps.  How  one  used  to  enjoy  one's  weed ! 
Nowadays,  I  find  that  I  get  the  craving  for  it,  or 
for  something,  and  when  I  have  lighted  up,  I  don't 
care  for  it.  As  often  as  not,  lately,  I  haven't  even 
felt  the  want  of  it.  Time  was,  I  was  a  champion 
smoker.  Some  fellow  should  invent  some  new  drug 
or  weed,  but  I  suppose  one  can  wear  through  any- 
thing." 

Standing  with  his  back  to  the  empty  fireplace  in 
the  seasonable  simplicity  of  a  white  silk  shirt,  white 
trousers  and  belt,  the  comparative  slimness  of  his 
broad  form  was  evident  to  the  shrewd  eyes  that 
watched  him.  The  tobacco  hunger  plainly  was 
not  the  only  thing  he  had  lost  during  the  late 
months. 

"  Oh  ay,  with  a  hope,"  answered  Proudfoot. 

"  What  a  f ellow  you  are  for  hope  !  The  first  day 
I  ever  saw  you,  when  you  treated  me  to  that  break- 
fast— we're  quits  now — you  hammered  in  hope — 
hope  for  rain." 

"  When  I  was  young,"  replied  Proudfoot,  "  I  lived 
to  preach  thrift,  because  I  had  so  sair  a  need  o't 
maseP.  Now  I  preach  hope  for  the  verra  same 
reason." 

"  The  thrift  answered  well." 

"  I  hae  nae  mair  doot  o'  the  return  o'  ma  hope 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  215 

than  I  hae  o'  the  soundness  o'  the  investments  that 
are  come  o'  ma  thrift,"  replied  Proudfoot ;  and  his 
grey  face  as  he  spoke  was  extraordinarily  long  and 
narrow  and  solemn,  and  his  little  blue  eyes  were 
fixed  on  HazelTs  with  the  hardness  of  metal. 

"  Well,"  said  Hazell  cheerfully,  "  I  wiU  begin  to 
hope  for  heaven.  Would  you  like  a  turn  on  the 
run  ?  You  know  what  you'll  see — white  grass,  grey 
gums,  sun  on  your  head  about  140°,  few  new  fences, 
newly-shorn  sheep  at  intervals.  I've  a  quiet  blue 
roan  that'll  carry  you  without  fidget,  or  I  could 
even  drive  you  a  mile  or  two,  if  you  don't  mind 
being  bumped." 

"  I  have  had  enough  outdoor  work  for  the  mo- 
ment, Muster  Hazell.  But  perhaps  I  keep  you  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all.  I  am  killing  time  just  now,  waiting 
to  get  the  smell  of  lanoline  out  of  my  head  after  a 
month  of  the  shearing  shed.  Waiting,  by  God  1  I 
don't  know  what  I  am  waiting  for.  Death,  prob- 
ably, like  most  of  us  the  wrong  side  of  forty." 
Hazell  shouted,  and  stared  at  the  opposite  wall  with 
wild  eyes. 

"Why  mak'  it  foorty  ?"  said  Proudfoot  dryly. 

"Why  not?  A  fool  or  a  physician  then,  you 
know.  Now,  a  fool  thinks  of  little ;  a  physician 
naturally  thinks  of  death.  I  will  have  a  cigar.  I 
have  a  dozen  or  so  left  of  a  particular  brand.  My 
brother,  Mr.  Proudfoot,  who  lives  in  London,  is  a 
connoisseur  in  cigars — gets  information  about  par- 
ticular sales.  Thanks  to  him,  I  got  a  hundred  from 
the  effects  of  a  certain  Sir  John  Pennyquick  who 
went  bankrupt — superb  Havanas,  extra  big,  fra- 


216  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

grant  as  the  spicy  isles.  I  keep  them  for  high  days 
and  holidays." 

Hazell  went  off  to  his  bedroom,  where  they  lay 
within  lock. 

The  visitor  nodded  his  long  head  conclusively, 
and  his  graven  wrinkles  softened.  So  great  was 
the  tenderness  of  the  well-hidden  heart  that  it  ex- 
ploded into  a  soliloquy  of  extraordinary  rapture. 

"  He's  verra  winsome,"  he  said  slowly ;  and  then, 
recovering  control,  added :  "  But  I  canna  cheeange 
a'  ma  ways  at  once." 

More  or  less,  Hazell  talked  all  day.  In  the  king- 
dom of  the  blind,  as  we  know,  the  one-eyed  man  is 
ruler,  and  he  was  cheered  and  happy  in  the  society 
of  the  general  importer,  who  was  an  excellent 
listener,  interested  to  hear  of  what  lay  beyond  his 
own  experience,  and  considerate  of  his  host  as  he 
might  have  been  of  an  admired  and  valued  son. 
Hazell  had  no  idea  how  closely  he  was  watched,  nor 
how,  as  he  talked  of  boar-hunting  in  India  and 
pigeon-shooting  at  Monte  Carlo,  and  the  probable 
policy  of  Russia  in  the  East,  and  the  future  of 
coloured  labour  in  Australia,  he  was  revealing  him- 
self as  sore  and  broken  without  any  definite  hope 
whatever.  The  gay  gallant  who  had  ridden  forth 
from  the  general  store  weeks  gone  by,  with  his  face 
toward  Wamagatta,  with  a  war-cry  of  champion- 
ship for  Miss  Fletcher,  had  given  no  sign  of  exist- 
ence since ;  and  the  lady  had  left  the  neighbour- 
hood, and  was,  by  the  testimony  of  the  newspapers, 
distracting  herself  ostentatiously  in  the  capital. 
Proudfoot  had  the  faculty  of  minute  and  careful 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  217 

observation  common  to  those  whose  ears  and  eyes 
are  exercised  upon  their  fellow-creatures  rather  than 
upon  literary  matters.  He  had  been  sure  during  all 
these  weeks  that  something  had  gone  wrong  in  the 
relations  of  these  two,  and  his  visit  to  Burrabindar, 
an  extraordinary  effort,  was  undertaken  from  sheer 
human  kindness  toward  the  man  and  the  woman 
who  had  stood  by  his  daughter's  grave. 

As  the  fierce  day  waned,  and  the  insufferable  sun 
shot  in  level  blaze  through  the  bamboo  blind,  he 
delivered  himself  of  what  he  had  come  to  say. 
First  asking  that  his  buggy  might  be  made  ready, 
and  expressing  himself  benignly  in  wishes  for  the 
New  Year  and  the  wool-market,  he  took  a  parting 
cup  of  tea,  beloved  of  Australians,  and  stirring  it 
for  the  sake  of  the  sugar,  beloved  of  Scotsmen,  he 
remarked  with  a  casual  and  detached  air,  and  his 
gaze  upon  his  spoon  : 

"  Have  ye  heard  any  word  further  o'  yon  wastrel 
Rennard — him  wi'  the  Bathurst  burrs  ?  " 

Hazell  answered  gruffly,  "  No." 

"  Aweel.  I  hear  maist  things.  If  I  had  a  shill- 
ing, sir,  for  every  unnecessary  word  that  is  spoken 
in  my  shop,  every  word,  I  should  say,  that  is  no' 
relevant  to  the  business  o'  buying  and  selling,  I 
should  be  rich  beyont  the  dreams  o'  avarice.  As  I 
was  saying,  it  appears  yon  is  in  the  distreect  once 
again.  Where  he  lives  I  dinna  know ;  but  he  fre- 
quents that  they  ca'  Paddy's  Market,  Saturdays,  in 
Menheniot,  and  the  Bushman's  Arms,  also  in  Men- 
heniot,  when  the  marketing's  accomplished,  and  juist 
talks  at  lairge." 


218  HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE 

Proudf oot  sipped  his  tea.  Hazell  flapped  his  fore- 
head with  his  handkerchief,  resentful  of  the  flies 
that  crawled  over  him  without  haste  or  rest,  as 
though  he  were  mere  butcher's  meat. 

"  Menheniot,"  he  said  between  the  flaps,  "  where 
exactly  is  that  ?  " 

"  Twenty-five  miles  on  the  Great  North  Koad." 

"Bum  sort  of  a  jumble,  nomenclature  of  new 
countries.  Beulah  to  Menheniot,  twenty  miles." 

"  I  have  heard,"  said  Proudfoot,  rising,  "  that  the 
town  received  its  name  from  a  manservant  wrho 
came  from  Cornwall  wi'  Muster  Bolitho,  forty  year 
gane." 

"  I  was  born,"  said  Hazell,  "  in  Kent,  which  peo- 
ple nowadays  are  apt  to  regard  as  a  suburb  of  Lon- 
don. By  Jove !  For  a  Kentish  autumn  morning 
this  blessed  instant ! "  He  flicked  his  head  sav- 
agely, then  spoke  loudly  and  abruptly  : 

"  I  tell  you,  I  should  be  afraid  to  be  too  near  that 
ruffian  Rennard.  I  am  twice  his  size,  probably 
twice  his  weight;  if  I  touched  him  I  might  kill 
him!" 

"  I'm  no  saying,"  returned  Proudfoot,  unmoved, 
"  that  he  wouldna  desairve  it ;  but  the  worst  one 
may  not  be  punished  unheard.  If  ye  chanced  to  be 
near  him,  ye  should  hear  him  firrst,  Muster  Hazell 
— hear  him  firrst." 

HazelFs  eyes  flashed  intelligently ;  a  keener  look 
came  upon  his  face.  "  Saturday,  Paddy's  Market," 
he  repeated. 

"  At  noon — a  berra  warrm  hour  this  time  o'  the 
year." 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  219 

Proudfoot  got  into  his  buggy  and  took  up  the 
reins  in  both  hands.  He  fixed  a  solemn  look  in 
parting  upon  his  host,  a  look  of  overwhelming  length 
and  gravity. 

"  I  hear,"  he  said  in  his  deep  tone,  "  that  yon 
Rennard  is  wanted  at  hame — wanted,  as  they  say, 
for  some  misdemeanour  of  his  youth.  I  gather  he  is 
here  to  escape  the  law  ;  the  ijit  blethers  in  his  cups. 
There  should  not  be  much  trouble  in  silencing  his 
tongue — when  he's  sober.  Muster  Hazell,  I  thank 
ye  for  a  friendly  day." 

"  I  did  not  know,"  said  Hazell  to  himself,  "  that  I 
had  a  friend  on  the  continent." 

He  caused  Mina  to  be  saddled,  and  cantered  about 
the  bare,  hot  paddocks  for  an  hour,  going  hard,  try- 
ing to  think  of  nothing,  conscious  of  a  new  little 
warmth  within  him  ;  hugging  it,  clinging  to  it,  and 
hope  springing  up  round  it  without  his  reason, 
without  his  will.  He  required  of  Mrs.  Brock  a  hot 
bath  before  dinner  ("  As  though,  to  be  sure,  it  was 
not  mad  enough  this  weather  to  boil  one's  self  to 
rags  once  a  day ! "  she  complained  to  the  kitchen). 
He  ate  his  dinner  with  appetite,  and  with  his  coffee 
allowed  himself  yet  another  of  the  few  cigars  re- 
maining from  Sir  John  Pennyquick's  store ;  and  by 
eleven  o'clock  be  had  disposed  himself  in  the  ham- 
mock within  the  wired  end  of  the  verandah  for  his 
night's  sleep.  Soon  after  the  following  sunrise  he 
was  on  his  way  to  Menheniot. 

Paddy's  Market  is  an  institution  of  which,  as  the 
name  conveys,  anything  may  be  expected — anything 
irregular.  Articles  of  every  sort,  representing  the 


220  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

whole  indoor  or  outdoor  furniture  and  personal  re- 
quirements of  the  countryside,  were  presented  there 
— not  all  at  once,  not  every  market-day  as  a  matter 
of  course,  nor  with  any  sort  of  order,  but  as  they 
might  be  available  and  superfluous.  Fowls  and 
sucking-pigs,  honey,  harness,  a  suit  of  clothes,  a  cow 
or  a  collie-dog,  a  dozen  of  empty  bottles  and  jam- 
jars, a  setting  of  eggs — such  things  were  sold  by 
auction  in  the  sunlight,  before  an  audience  of 
country  people,  townsfolk  and  Chinamen,  sprinkled 
with  a  few  of  the  wealthier  and  professional  classes, 
who  came  to  look  on,  sometimes  to  snatch  a  bargain. 
The  business  was  done  in  a  bit  of  enclosed  ground 
at  the  back  of  the  Bushman's  Arms ;  a  large  shed 
giving  shelter  to  a  stall  or  two,  and  a  few  perishable 
reserves  of  stock,  and  a  pen  or  two  placed  here  and 
there  held  the  complainant  bestial  that  was  offered 
for  purchase. 

Hazell  put  up  his  horse  at  the  inn  ;  his  lunch  had 
been  taken  on  the  way  a  few  miles  short  of  the 
township,  and  he  was  ready  with  his  best  attention 
for  the  coming  of  Rennard.  The  cut  of  his  clothes 
— a  white  suit  much  worn — the  trimness  of  his 
beard,  his  erect  bearing,  his  pith  helmet,  marked 
him  among  the  small  crowd  where  the  standard  of 
dress  and  of  deportment  was  of  the  most  slovenly  ; 
where  the  lean,  dry  men  slouched  forward  at  the 
shoulder,  and  the  lean,  dry  women  slouched  forward 
at  the  hip.  Leanest  and  driest  were  the  Chinese, 
joiners  and  gardeners,  a  small  colony  scattered  in 
the  small  assembly,  and  incomparably  the  most 
amiable  of  countenance.  It  needs  alcohol,  or  the 


HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE  221 

near  prospect  of  it,  to  make  our  Briton  jovial,  under 
whatever  sky.  Tall  and  parched,  short  and  parched, 
Rennard  was  not  among  them,  and  Hazell  stood 
patiently  to  watch  the  sales. 

The  auctioneer,  a  brisk  person  in  a  tweed  suit,  laid 
aside  his  coat  and  took  his  stand  on  an  empty  box, 
which  raised  him  above  the  others'  shoulders,  and, 
receiving  from  a  hidden  hand  a  couple  of  pair  of 
fowls,  he  held  them  by  the  legs  and  asked  a  bid. 
The  usual  useful  mongrel  sort  of  the  poultry-yard, 
they  met  with  no  demand.  The  auctioneer  raised 
his  voice.  Enthusiasm  and  emphasis  were  his  style, 
in  which  he  might  have  passed  muster  before  any 
jury: 

"  A  shillin',  a  shillin',  a  shillin'  a  pair ;  prime  lay- 
ers or  first-class  for  the  table — a  shillin',  a  shillin',  a 
shillin',  one  shillin' — actually  goin'  for  one  shillin'. 
Who'll  bid  ?  who'll  bid  ?  One  and  three— yes,  one 
and  three,  and  three,  and  three ;  and  six,  and  six — 
goin'  for  one  and  six — prime  layers  or  first-class  for 
the  table.  It's  no  price  at  all !  Who'll  bid?  One 
and  six !  Are  ye  don-ne  ?  "  He  waxed  wild,  and 
in  a  burst  of  generous  championship  raised  the 
wretched  birds  aloft  that  all  might  see  their  ad- 
vantages. They  screeched  and  reared  their  hang- 
ing heads.  He  shook  them  at  the  apathetic  audi- 
ence. A  woman  near  nodded  for  another  three- 
pence ;  he  caught  it  and  continued  in  the  same  high 
scream  :  "  And  nine,  and  nine,  and  nine — one  and 
nine.  Are  ye  don-ne  ?  " 

A  further  waggle  of  the  unhappy  creatures 
brought  to  the  point  the  stableman  of  the  Royal 


222  HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE 

Hotel,  who  bore  off  the  whole  four  at  a  shilling 
apiece  for  the  consumption  of  his  mistress's  cus- 
tomers. Ducks  followed,  and  turkeys ;  sucking- 
pigs  were  bravely  handled  by  the  auctioneer,  and 
added  their  cries  to  his  before  being  knocked  down 
to  a  singularly  stout  countryman,  at  four  and  six- 
pence apiece.  The  heat  was  intense ;  moisture 
streamed  down  the  auctioneer's  face  as  he  forced 
his  voice  till  it  rang  as  hard  as  blows  on  wood, 
forced  it  unsparingly,  as  though  from  a  sense  of 
what  was  due  to  his  trade,  for  the  company  was 
small,  and  no  other  tongue  strove  against  his.  The 
eye  of  him  worked  as  hard  as  the  tongue ;  it  swept 
his  audience  with  unfailing  perception.  Never  did 
a  wavering  spirit  falter  to  a  decision  without  his  in- 
stant apprehension  and  declaration  of  it ;  or  was  it, 
rather,  Hazell  wondered,  sometimes  that  he  seized 
and  publicly  bound  the  unwilling,  nailing  them  to 
a  bargain  for  which  they  had  no  desire,  but  lacked 
courage  to  repudiate.  Hazell  could  not  decide.  He 
followed  the  group  to  a  side-pen  where  a  shabby 
horse  stood  on  sale.  Its  coat  was  rough,  its  head 
hung  dully,  its  mouth  gave  evidence  of  hard-rein- 
ing, and  yet,  ungroomed,  ill-fed,  it  was  a  fairly  good 
animal,  better  bred  than  would  appear  at  a  glance, 
for  horses  in  bad  years  are  more  plentiful  than  feed. 
The  auctioneer  mounted  his  box. 

"  Make  me  an  offer,"  he  cried,  "  for  a  capital  hack, 
sound  wind  and  limb,  six  year  old,  and  only  want- 
ing a  little  feeding  to  be  as  handsome  and  free-go- 
ing a  mount  as  any  man  needs.  Broken  to  single 
and  double  harness,  easy  pacer,  not  a  vice  about 


HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE  223 

him ;  and  you  wouldn't  find  him  in  the  market,  I 
can  tell  you,  if  there  were  more  grass  in  the  pad- 
docks. Make  an  offer!  Come,  ladies  and  gentle- 
men, make  an  offer.  Sire  the  great  Euritanius,  as 
any  one  can  see  who  knows  the  distinguishing 
marks  of  that  splendid  creature,  so  highly  esteemed 
in  the  district.  Goin'  without  reserve ;  an  unpar- 
alleled occasion.  Make  an  offer  1  Handle  him 
yourselves,  gentlemen,  examine  him  at  your  pleas- 
ure, and  make  me  a  handsome  offer  ! " 

With  a  grin,  one  of  the  louts  bid  ten  shillings. 
The  auctioneer  took  it  with  a  shrug.  "Ten  shil- 
lin's !  ten  shillin's !  This  is  not  serious,  ladies  and 
gentlemen — a  Kuritanius  goin'  for  ten  shillin's! 
"When  the  years  o'  plenty  come  again  you'll  be 
sorry  to  remember  that  you  let  such  an  opportunity 
slip." 

"  I'd  take  the  loss  for  the  years  o'  plenty,  mister ! " 
some  one  commented  shrilly. 

"  Ten  shillin's,  ten  shillin's— fifteen  ?  Thank  you. 
Fifteen  shillin's — a  Euritanius,  not  a  vice  about  him 
and  all  his  best  years  before  him — fifteen.  Twenty ; 
a  pound,  a  pound,  a  pound — goin'  for  a  pound — a 
pound.  Twenty-five — I  am  glad  to  see  that  there 
is  a  little  respect  for  breed  left  in  this  company. 
Thirty,  thirty  shillin's— we're  slow,  ladies  and  gen- 
tlemen ;  but  these  are  the  days  o'  bicycles,  no  one 
can  hurry  for  anything  but  a  wheel.  Thirty-five — 
thirty-five,  thirty-five  shillin's.  Are  ye  don-ne? 
Ye're  never  done !  Two  pound,  two  pound,  two 
pound — a  Euritanius !  Are  ye  don-ne  ?  Goin',  goin' 
at  two  pound— goin',  goin',  gon-ne !  The  horse  is 


224:  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

yours,  sir,  for  the  ridiculous  sum  of  two  pound.  I'm 
glad,  I  must  say,  that  I'm  not  a  horse-breeder  these 
times." 

Hazell  thought  that  he  was  glad  too. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THERE  were  dry  men,  little  men,  lean  men,  in  the 
yard  of  the  Bushman's  Arms,  but  no  Rennard  yet, 
and  the  mercury  stood  at  104°  in  the  shade,  the 
bone-dr}'-  shade.  There  was  a  maid  of  a  pale  but 
lively  countenance,  the  elaboration  of  whose  yellow 
hair  spoke  a  desire  to  please  the  opposed  sex.  She 
had  given  a  glimpse  of  these  advantages  from  a 
side- window  of  the  inn.  Doubtless  she  presided  at 
the  bar.  Her  tea  might  be  drinkable,  and  it  must 
be  wet.  Moreover,  every  detail  of  the  neighbour- 
hood must  be  in  her  recollection.  Hazell  sought 
her  in  an  interior  which  hummed  with  flies  and 
reeked  stalely  of  beer  and  tobacco. 

"  Terrible  bad  day,"  he  said  blandly,  and  took  off 
his  helmet  with  a  slight  reference  to  herself,  and  an 
underlying  purpose  of  wiping  his  forehead. 

"  Oh,  hot !  "  she  replied,  with  the  disdain  of  her 
species  toward  the  creature  man. 

"  And  dry  !  "  he  added  amiably.  "  Really,  one 
doesn't  know  what  to  do  this  sort  of  weather.  If 
one  indulges  one's  thirst,  one  is  drinking  all  day 
long,  and  not  a  bit  the  better  for  it ;  and  if  one 
doesn't  drink,  one  gets  through  an  amount  of  actual 
suffering.  I  don't  say  one  isn't  wiser  to  suffer " 

"  Oh,  /'m  nothing  of  a  drinker,"  said  the  maid 
offhand.  "  But  it  ain't  my  business  to  discourage 
them  that  is." 

225 


226  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

"  Of  course  not.  Could  you  make  me  a  particu- 
larly good  pot  of  tea,  do  you  think — strong  and 
fresh,  lots  of  milk,  first  boiling  of  the  water,  five 
minutes'  drawing — and  take  a  cup  of  it  with  me 
yourself  ?  " 

Hazell  smiled  insinuatingly.  She  relaxed  to  toss 
her  head,  and  answered :  "  You  do  seem  mighty 
particular,  but  I  dare  say  I  could  do  that  j  and  the 
water  don't  take  long  to  boil  to-day.  Set  down 
and  have  a  look  at  the  piper,  and  mind  the  bar, 
wown't  yer  ?  " 

Having  given  her  no  promise,  Hazell  uncon- 
scientiously  leant  out  of  the  side-window  and  kept 
his  eye  on  the  yard  and  the  market  till  she  returned 
with  his  teapot  and  upbraided  him. 

"My  word,  you're  keen  on  that  old  auction!" 
she  cried.  "  A  sharp  feller  might  clear  the  whole 
plice  out  while  you're  watchin'  it." 

"  The  fact  is,"  said  Hazell,  unabashed—"  please 
— (I  am,  as  you  say,  most  awfully  particular)  let  me 
pour  out  my  own  tea  and  yours  too;  I'm  an 
old  traveller,  and  remarkably  knowing  in  tea — 
the  fact  is,  I  am  here  to-day  on  the  chance  of 
meeting  some  one.  There,  is  that  how  you  like 
it  ?  /  like  it  immensely.  Here's  to  your  health, 
Miss " 

"  Bishop's  my  nyme,  for  the  present"  she  replied, 
with  a  tossing  head,  but  a  relenting  mouth. 

"For  the  present  only,  I'm  quite  sure — and  a 
short  present,  I  should  say,"  he  answered.  "  Does 
he  live  in  these  parts  ?  " 

"  Oh  my,  no !     Sech  a  set  about  'ere  !    He's  a 


HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE  227 

Sydney  boy.  Travels  for  a  Sydney  firm.  Men- 
heniot's  a  howl,  that's  what  it  is ;  nothing  goin'  on 
from  one  year's  end  to  another.  I  couldn't  live  'ere 
for  anythink  you  could  nyme.  I  like  a  little  life 
where /live." 

"  Of  course.  I  dare  say  you  see  a  rough  selection 
one  way  and  another  out  of  the  Bush  ?  " 

"  My  word,  yes !  Downright  turn  yer  sometimes. 
But  this  mornin'  a  man  come  in  with  a  bungy  eye 
and  stood  where  you're  standin',  tryin'  to  look 
sweet  at  me  with  the  other.  If  anythink  mikes 
me  sick,  it's  a  bungy  eye." 

"A  bungy  eye?"  repeated  Hazell,  polite  but 
vague. 

"  Yes.  Stung  by  a  fly,  yer  know.  I  do  despise  a 
man  that  lets  a  fly  stay  long  enough  on  him  to  sting 
him  !  I  turned  the  laugh  on  him,  though.  There 
was  a  lot  of  'em  in  'ere.  '  Come  again  when  you've 
got  two  eyes  to  make  yerself  pleasant  with,'  I  told 
Jim!" 

Hazell  smiled,  but  though  bent  on  conciliation, 
he  put  in  a  word  for  the  honour  of  his  sex : 

"Rather  a  hopeless  task,  though,  flicking  away 
flies  in  the  Bush,  Miss  Bishop.  You  shouldn't  be 
too  unmerciful.  Why,  it  might  happen  to  me,  you 
know ! " 

"  It  might,  but  it  don't  happen  to  smart  boys," 
she  answered  ;  "  and  you  don't  want  much  to  turn 
yer  in  the  summer.  'Tain't  all  beer  and  skittles  in 
my  perfession,  /  can  assure  yer.  Sech  a  row  as  I 
had  'ere,  too,  this  mornin' ;  reg'lar  circus  it  was. 
This  is  my  first  breakfast ;  I  couldn't  touch  a  thing 


228  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

before,  not  ever  so.  Quite  upset  me,  I  know.  If  it 
hadn't  a-been  for  that,  I  mightn't  a-been  so  quick 
with  the  fool  with  the  bungy  eye." 

"  Tell  me  about  this  circus,"  said  Hazell,  helping 
himself  to  a  third  half-pint  of  tea. 

"  It  was  a  selector  from  seventy  miles  and  more 
out  back ;  been  'ere  before  for  the  night,  and  put 
his  horse  up  each  time.  The  boss  was  out  this 
mornin',  and  I  had  to  give  'im  his  bill.  *  Eighteen- 
pence  for  the  horse ! '  says  he  as  soon  as  he  see  it. 
'  Why,  it  was  ninepence  last  time !  I  shan't  pay 
anything  of  the  kind!'  'And  didn't  your  horse 
'ave  a  bob-tail  last  time  ? '  says  I ;  *  and  hasn't  he 
got  a  long  tail  this  time  ?  It's  our  rule :  we  always 
charge  double  for  a  long-tailed  horse,  because  he 
eats  double  (swishes  away  the  flies  with  his  tail,  yer 
know,  while  he  gryzes ;  and  with  a  bob  'e's  kept 
goin'  most  of  the  time  lookin'  round  and  bitin'  at 
the  flies).  It's  our  rule,'  I  says.  '  I  don't  care 
a — '  I  wouldn't  repeat  it ;  it  wasn't  language  for 
a  lady's  ears  what  he  said.  It  did  upset  me,  I  know ! 
Had  to  get  in  McDally  the  constable  before  he'd 
pay  and  go.  I  couldn't  make  'im  without  the  boss 
to  back  me  up.  Oh,  they're  a  set,  the  men  about 
'ere ! " 

"  Poor  Miss  Bishop ! "  said  Hazell  sympathetic- 
ally, and  looked  at  the  girl  critically,  calling  her  in 
his  own  mind  a  bloodless,  boneless,  bodiless  being,  a 
bundle  of  nerves  under  a  straw-coloured  frizz.  And 
he  felt  sorry  for  her  and  for  the  Sydney  boy  who 
travelled  for  the  Sydney  firm — sorrow  which  merged 
into  a  moment's  rage  at  civilisation,  with  its  preser- 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  229 

vation  of  the  unfit.  "  Poor  Miss  Bishop ! "  he  re- 
peated. "And  I  am  aiding  and  abetting  you  in 
tea-drinking,  which  I  am  sure  is  bad  for  you." 

"  My  word !  It's  better  than  soft  drinks  ;  you  do 
get  so  sick  of  them,  and  they  upset  yer  so ;  and  what 
is  there  left  ?  It's  no  use  your  advisin'  me  to  tyke 
to  sperits.  I  wouldn't,  not  if  it  was  ever  so.  I  see 
enough  of  that  with  men,  let  alone  women,  which  is 
a  fat  lot  worse.  When  they  hoffer  me,  I  generally 
says  tea — it's  the  best,  after  all." 

"  An  iced  lemon-squash,  through  a  straw,  is  very 
safe  and  very  good,"  Hazell  suggested. 

"Now,  I  arsk  yer,"  returned  Miss  Bishop,  ready 
with  her  scorn  for  the  creature  man — "really,  I 
arsk  yer :  ice,  this  sort  o'  heat,  and  Menheniot  and 
lemons  !  'Tain't  often  we  get  them  up  'ere." 

"  Ale  would  be  good  for  your  nerves — a  couple  of 
glasses  a  day  as  a  prescription." 

"  Oh,  ale.  If  you  knew  as  much  about  ale  as  I 
do " 

"Australian  faith  in  tea  is  not  to  be  shaken. 
"Well,  well !  Do  you,  by  chance,  ever  see  a  fellow 
called  Rennard  about  here  ?  " 

"  That  beauty  ?  Is  that  yer  man  ?  Oh  yes ;  I  see 
him  fast  enough — hear  him,  too,  worse  luck !  Does- 
n't bring  much  to  the  house  but  low  talk ;  and  I 
can't  abide  bad  language,  as  I  told  yer.  Any  think 
mikes  him  drunk." 

"  Where  does  he  come  from  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,  and  I  don't  believe  any  one 
else  knows,  either.  I  don't  believe  he  knows  him- 
self. Got  a  humpy  in  the  Bush  somewhere,  I  sup- 


230  HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE 

pose.  Comes  to  Paddy's  Market  sometimes,  he 
does.  Says  he  comes  from  England.  Pity  they 
didn't  hype  him  there  when  they'd  got  him,  /  say. 
Oh,  I  don't  have  much  opinion  of  the  superior 
animal,  I  can  assure  you." 

"  So  it  appears.  Well,  Miss  Bishop,  between  you 
and  me,  I  don't  know  that  I  have,  either.  You 
couldn't  hazard  a  guess  if  Eennard  will  come  in  to- 
day?" 

"  No,  I  couldn't.  I  haven't  seen  him.  I  don't 
keep  a  fond  look-out  for  his  sort.  Is  Tie  yer  man  ?  " 

"  He's  my  man,  for  the  moment." 

"  Something  to  his  advantage — p'raps  not  ?" 

"Not— decidedly  not." 

"In  the  police?"  inquired  Miss  Bishop,  with  a 
keen  eye  on  Hazell's  imposing  figure,  which  inter- 
ested her. 

"  In  sheep,"  he  answered,  smiling,  and  wondered 
how  he  could  pass  away  a  little  more  time  wait- 
ing. 

It  occurred  to  him  to  ask  for  a  clean,  quiet  bed- 
room, where  he  might  take  his  nap,  trusting  to  her 
kindness  to  call  him  if  the  vagabond  of  his  search 
should  visit  the  hotel. 

She  led  the  way  to  a  tolerable  upper  chamber, 
and  withdrew  to  the  shrill  refrain,  "  Where  is  my 
wandering  boy  to-night  ?  " 

"  To  such  base  uses  even  a  hymn  may  come," 
thought  Hazell ;  and  then  the  sorrowful  egoism  that 
embittered  his  days  rushed  upon  him  again.  "  There 
isn't  a  woman  in  the  world,  I  suppose,  who  thinks 
of  me  as  her  wandering  boy,  and — well,  I  suppose 


HEAETS  IMPOKTUNATE  231 

I  am  too  old  to  care  for  the  tenderness  of  a  Miss 
Bishop ! " 

Flies  buzzed  continuously.  The  untiring  voice 
of  the  auctioneer  below  inquired  still,  "Are  ye 
don-ne?"  and  the  various  live-stock  made  their 
presence  known  each  in  idiom.  Hazell  put  the 
pillow  to  the  foot  of  the  bed,  and  lay  down  with 
the  top  of  his  head  toward  the  window.  He  spread 
a  handkerchief  over  his  face,  tucked  his  hands  up 
his  sleeves,  refused  to  think  of  Avis,  asked  himself 
what  he  lived  for,  and  fell  asleep  instantly. 

He  awoke  to  a  smart  rapping  on  his  door. 

"  He's  'ere,  if  yer  want  him,"  cried  the  high  tones 
of  Miss  Bishop ;  "  and  I  haven't  any  time  to  waste, 
for  the  bar's  full ! " 

Daylight  was  failing.  All  times  in  the  Bush  are 
times  for  tea;  but  tea-time  in  chief  was  at  hand, 
and  half  a  dozen  customers  were  seeking  from  the 
Bushman's  Arms  the  refreshment  of  tough  chops 
and  tasteless  eggs  and  inferior  bread,  and  a  boil- 
ing solution  of  tea — a  barbarous  food,  cooked  with- 
out judgment,  taken  without  enthusiasm.  Hazell 
thought  of  all  the  conspicuously  worst  meals  he 
had  ever  made,  and  hesitated  for  a  minute  between 
the  recollection  of  a  supper  shared  with  Greek 
shepherds,  a  supper  of  sour  bread,  hard  goafs-milk 
cheese  and  resinated  wine,  and  the  anticipation  of 
the  fare  of  the  Bushman's  Arms  this  sultry  even- 
ing. It  was  only  for  a  moment.  As  he  went 
downstairs  and  smelt  the  frying  meat,  he  gave  the 
palm  of  demerit  to  the  Bushman's  Arms.  Some 
laughter,  of  the  quality  known  as  horse-laughter, 


232  HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE 

invited  him  to  the  part  of  the  house  where  a  couple 
of  fellows  were  hoisting  a  tipsy  stock-rider  into  the 
sorry  saddle  of  a  shabby  steed.  The  intended  rider 
was  unable  to  give  them  any  assistance,  and  was 
unwilling  indeed  to  do  anything  but  hinder  them. 

"  Lemme  go — yer  all ! "  he  screamed,  with  an  in- 
effectual feint  at  the  publican,  a  stout  man  who 
looked  on  with  an  indifferent  smile.  "  He  owesh  me 
money !  A  quid  I  give  'im — down't  tell  me !  Drunk 
a  quid !  Lemme  go — yer  all ! " 

"  You've  got  all  you'll  carry,  my  wanderin'  boy," 
remarked  a  bystander ;  "  and  if  your  animal  tykes 
you  safe  to-night,  he'll  owe  yer  nothing,  and  mat- 
ters '11  be  square  all  around.  How's  that,  boss  ?  " 

The  publican  laughed. 

"  Dick  Hurly  doesn't  get  another  drop  this  side 
o'  next  time,"  he  answered.  " ' Alf  a  pint  more,  and 
the  load  'ud  be  more  than  any  high-bred  animal  'ud 
carry.  He's  jest  on  the  turn  o'  the  scale ;  I  can  see 
it  with  my  eye." 

It  was  not  much  that  Dick  Hurly  saw  with  his 
eye,  of  which  the  appearance  was  glassy.  He  was 
a  sinner  past  middle  age,  and  presumably  past  re- 
form. He  wore  a  long  greyish  beard,  and  his 
clothes  were  well  advanced  in  neglect. 

"  Lemme  go !  "  he  shrieked  hoarsely ;  and  as  his 
grooms  propped  him  in  the  saddle,  he  lurched  to 
either  side. 

"  Give  'im  a  start ! "  cried  a  squeaking  voice  from 
the  window  of  the  bar.  "  He'll  be  all  right  once 
he  gets  started." 

This  seemed  to  be  accepted  as  a  fact,  though  an 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  233 

unaccustomed  person,  seeing  the  performance  for 
the  first  time,  would  have  named  it  offhand  man- 
slaughter. A  handy  whip  of  raw  hide  was  applied 
smartly  to  the  back  parts  of  the  horse,  and  feeling 
the  instant  motion,  the  knees  of  the  drunken  rider 
gripped  the  leather  with  the  force  of  old  habit,  and 
off  he  went  homewards.  His  reins  hung  loose,  and 
his  head  rolled  from  side  to  side,  as  his  body  lurched 
more  slowly,  also  from  side  to  side,  alarming  to 
behold ;  but  the  trained  knees  did  their  work.  The 
horse  knew  his  way  and  the  ways  of  his  master, 
and  bore  him  along  at  a  free  canter  into  the  soli- 
tudes of  the  Bush. 

"  Happy  man,  Dick  Hurly !  He  will  awake  to- 
morrow to  find  himself  by  his  own  fireside.  Near- 
est thing  I  know  of  to  a  wishing-carpet.  Interest- 
ing— characteristic ! "  said  a  stranger  at  Hazell's 
elbow. 

He  turned  to  find  himself  addressed  by  a  thin 
personage  whose  yellow  face  was  not  much  differ- 
ent in  tone  from  the  suit  of  tusseh-silk  with  which 
he  veiled  his  emaciated  body  and  indicated  himself 
a  seasoned  dweller  in  hot  climates. 

A  bell  rang  clangorous. 

"  My  repast,"  said  the  stranger ;  "  is  it  also 
yours  ?  " 

Hazell's  heart  warmed  to  a  prospective  com- 
panion, and  they  went  in  together.  Rennard  was 
not  in  the  low-pitched,  dingy  room  which  offered 
them  "  tea."  Three  or  four  rough  men  sat  silently 
at  a  long  table  spread  with  a  soiled  cloth,  and 
presenting  a  group  of  eggs  in  cups,  a  couple  of 


234  HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE 

saucers  of  jam,  black  with  flies,  a  large  dish  of 
chops,  a  pile  of  thin  slices  of  greyish  bread.  Hazell 
took  a  seat,  pulled  his  beard,  and  sighed.  The  stran- 
ger in  yellow  silk  answered  the  sigh. 

"No  one  can  say  the  Australians  live  to  eat." 

"But  they  must  have  a  very  strong  desire  to 
live,"  answered  Hazell,  smiling. 

"  A  good  sign,"  was  the  reply ;  "  and,  for  that 
matter,  I  believe  the  lower  orders  of  a  nation  are 
always  about  a  century  behind  the  upper  classes  in 
their  diet." 

"  Only  a  century !  How  many  eggs  should  a  man 
consume  who  has  taken  little  since  breakfast  and 
hopes  to  ride  about  five-and-twenty  miles  before 
midnight — four  ?  " 

"  *  An  apple,  an  egg  and  a  nut,' "  quoted  the 
stranger,  "well,  if  he  isn't  a  liver-man  and  calls 
this  his  dinner." 

"Poor  fool!  he  does  so." 

"  Then  he  may  have  half  a  dozen." 

Miss  Bishop  waited  on  the  company.  She  came 
behind  Hazell  and  whispered : 

"  Here's  yer  tea ;  I  made  it  on  purpose,  jest  the 
syme." 

He  pressed  the  rough,  skinny  little  hand  which 
gave  him  the  cup  with  a  smile  of  genuine  gratitude. 
She  passed  on  with  a  relenting  toss  to  the  yellow 
man,  saying : 

"Doctor,  I  put  yer  sugar  in  as  usual — five  lumps." 

He  nodded,  and  took  his  measure  of  fluid  and 
explained  to  Hazell : 

"  I've  all  kinds  of  vices.     I  consume  at  intervals 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  235 

every  known  narcotic.  I  hate  the  sight  of  my  fel- 
low-creatures— whom,  being  as  you  heard  just  now, 
in  physic,  I  see  ever  at  their  least  pleasing — yet  I 
retain  ineradicably  one  amiable  failing — a  love  of 
sugar." 

"  Alas !  I  have  lost  it.  But  I've  heard  that  it  is  a 
natural  craving  in  a  hot  climate." 

"  One  hears — one  hears — one  is  always  hearing ! 
Hot  climates — sugar  may  be  the  food  of  hell,  as 
music  is  of  heaven !  yet  more  likely  there  will  be 
none  there,  not  a  grain,  only  the  well-developed 
craving  for  it." 

"  You've  a  pretty  wit  of  your  own,"  said  Hazell, 
eating  his  eggs  one  after  the  other  without  even  a 
pretence  upon  the  greyish  bread.  In  an  ordinary 
way  he  would  have  been  keen  to  talk  to  his  sar- 
donical  companion,  but  this  evening  he  was  bent  on 
an  important  quest.  He  beckoned  Miss  Bishop  to 
his  side,  and,  asking  for  more  tea,  asked  also  where 
Rennard  was. 

"  In  the  bar.  Didn't  yer  see  him  ?  Oh,  well, 
he's  syfe  enough  till  closin'  time.  When  he  does 
come  in,  he  don't  go  till  he's  obliged.  You  needn't 
hurry  yerself." 

"  Doctor,"  said  Hazell  suddenly,  "  did  you  ever 
know  of  a  man's  hand  being  incapacitated  by 
Bathurst  burrs?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  certainly — seen  several  cases  of  it,  one 
only  lately.  There  is  not  such  a  plague  of  burrs 
about  here  as  in  some  parts,  so  you  don't,  luckily  for 
you,  hear  so  much  of  their  ingenious  devilry.  (I 
say  you — I  don't  know  anything  about  you,  sir,  of 


236  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

course.)  No  doubt  whatever  the  devil  reigns  in 
Australasia — has  always  reigned.  British  colonists 
ousted  him  a  bit,  and  he  takes  all  kinds  of  ways  of 
tormenting  them  before  their  time.  Bathurst  burrs 

distinctly  one  way " 

"  I  did  that  man  one  injustice,  why  not  another  ?  " 
The  words  seemed  to  ring  in  Hazell's  ears  as 
though  they  had  been  spoken.  They  clashed 
through  his  brain  as  though  the  drums  and  cymbals 
had  clashed  unexpectedly  in  an  orchestra.  His 
heart  stood  still  a  minute;  perspiration  poured 
down  his  face.  He  got  up  abruptly,  murmuring 
"  Heat,"  and  went  out  into  the  street  to  be  alone,  to 
steady  himself. 

If  there  were  really  some  terrible  thing  behind 
her — Avis — some  unspeakable  thing !  In  such  case, 
what  right  had  he  to  interfere,  to  come  here  after 
this  brute  who  brayed  it  forth  ?  He  was  not  her 
husband,  sworn  to  fight  her  battles.  He  was  no 
busybody,  to  stir  mud,  to  make  mischief ;  he  was 
no  Quixote,  to  espouse  the  cause  of  ladies  in  general. 
Should  he  go  back  and  leave  it  untouched — back  to 
that  darkness,  to  that  life  which  was  no  life?  He 
leaned  on  a  paddock  fence,  gazing  unseeing  into  a 
dim  field,  bareheaded,  a  big  white  figure  under  the 
starlight,  and  thought  and  thought  and  thought. 
No !  he  could  not  go  back  thus.  He  loved  her  so. 
A  spasm  of  pain  seemed  to  contract  his  heart,  and 
his  face  worked  in  the  kindly  darkness.  His  eye- 
lids felt  hot,  as  though  tears  were  coming.  He 
stretched  out  his  arms  along  the  fence,  and  bowed 
his  head,  and  the  long  line  of  dry  wood  cracked  and 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  237 

shook  in  his  grasp.  "  No  evil  that  any  mortal  could 
do  should  keep  me  from  her ! "  he  said  in  himself. 
"  If  she  had  blood  on  her  soul,  I  should  love  her  !  " 

From  this  stage  it  was  no  far  cry  to  a  final 
wherein  he  decided  that  it  was  for  him,  of  all  the 
world,  secretly  or  openly  to  do  her  service.  It 
was  inconceivable  that  she  could  wish  a  wretch 
like  Rennard  to  chatter  of  her  concerns,  good  or 
evil;  therefore  he  should  be  silenced.  Truly  or 
falsely,  he  should  talk  no  more.  Hazell  himself 
would  ask  nothing  either  way ;  from  herself  only 
would  he  hear  anything  about  herself,  but  Rennard, 
if  necessary  by  a  wrung  neck,  should  be  bound  over 
to  keep  the  peace. 

With  this  resolution  he  went  back  to  the  inn  and 
the  bar  once  more,  not  in  vain.  The  miserable  little 
figure  of  Rennard,  distinctly  more  miserable-look- 
ing than  when  he  had  seen  him  last,  sat  in  a  corner, 
with  shut  eyes,  sucking  a  glass  of  beer  on  a  small 
table  before  him.  Hazell,  stalwart  and  command- 
ing, stepped  up  to  him  and  rapped  the  table  sharply, 
his  ringed  finger  sounding  to  attract  attention. 

"  Luke  Rennard ! "  he  said  sternly. 

The  man  started  and  looked  at  him  with  blink- 
ing eyes,  frightened,  cowering  instantly,  as  though 
with  a  habit  of  fear ;  then,  recognising,  he  stam- 
mered : 

"What  cher  want  with  me,  Mister  Hazell, 
please  ?  " 

The  squatter  wondered,  looking  on  so  poor  a  rag 
of  manhood,  what  he  did  want  with  him.  There 
was  no  obvious  connection  between  Avis  Fletcher, 


238  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

without  spot  or  blemish,  and  this  dirty,  quailing 
vagabond,  peering  with  cunning  little  eyes  from  a 
blotched  and  pallid  face.  The  whole  physical  scale 
of  humanity  lay  between  them.  The  name  of  the 
one  should  not  be  mentioned  to  the  other,  nor  here, 
ever,  in  such  a  place  as  this.  While  he  hesitated 
the  man  broke  into  a  resentful  moan : 

"  If  it's  my  pore  'ands  agen,  they've  never  re- 
covered from  them  burrs,  and  not  a  stroke  of  work 
'ave  I  done  these  months  past.  Stiif  with  'em,  I 
am,  and  a  sort  o'  dead  feelin'  all  up  my  pore  arms. 
Gawd's  treuth  it  is !  Sometimes  it's  as  much  as  I 
kin  do  to  get  my  boots  on.  P'raps  it'd  be  a  kind 
hact  if  you'd  give  me  that  letter  you  spoke  of  to  a 
'orspital,  sir?" 

Wanted  in  England !  If  England  got  him,  she 
would  not,  indeed,  get  much.  Oh,  magnificent 
fiction  of  the  law,  that  all  men  are  equal !  Equally 
responsible ;  effectual  for  good  or  evil ;  worthy  of 
extradition  action ;  educable — citizens  !  Yet  the 
tubercle  bacillus  may  slay  the  son  of  Anak,  and 
the  son  of  Anak  would  do  well  to  put  his  heel  on 
the  tubercle  bacillus.  Should  Hazell  slay  here? 
should  he  not  ?  At  the  counter  behind,  the  smooth 
tones  of  the  strange  doctor  asked  for  a  match  for 
his  cigar. 

"  Doctor,"  said  Hazell  suddenly,  "  here's  a  patient 
who  says  he  has  burred  hands.  Will  you  look  at 
him  a  minute,  to  oblige  me  ?  " 

"  Will  you  be  answerable  for  my  five  shillings  ?  " 
returned  the  physician  sardonically,  and  puffed  and 
inhaled  his  potent  Trichinopoly  leaf.  "  Kooney 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  239 

and  Australians  at  the  bar,  I  call  you  to  witness 
that  this  big  gentleman  in  white  duck  owes  me 
five  shillings !  " 

The  speaker  came  forward  and  took  in  his  own 
Eennard's  unsightly  fingers.  He  looked  at  them 
carelessly,  smoking  slowly ;  then  more  carefully  ; 
then  laid  down  the  cigar  and  stared  keenly  into 
the  rogue's  face ;  then,  brisk,  energetic,  interested, 
said: 

"  There  will  be  a  light  in  the  coffee-room,  let  us 
go  there  ;  "  and  half  urging,  half  supporting  the  pa- 
tient he  led  the  way,  followed,  according  to  a  ges- 
ture, by  Hazell.  Rennard  answered  a  few  ques- 
tions and  submitted  his  arms  and  features  to  close 
inquisition.  Setting  down  the  lamp,  the  doctor 
dismissed  him. 

"  Go  and  get  yourself  a  whisky-and-soda,  and  tell 
Rooney  to  charge  it  to  Dr.  Beeby." 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  took  up  his  cigar. 

"Well,"  said  Hazell,  "burrs  there  ?" 

"Burrs?  Oh,  very  likely — burrs  and  blains  of 
several  kinds.  That,  sir — and  I  forgive  you  my 
five  shillings  for  the  scientific  surprise  of  it — is  a 
well-marked  instance  of  one  of  our  pathological 
mysteries.  I've  met  with  it  before  in  China  and 
Singapore  and  the  South  Sea  Islands,  but  never  yet 
on  British  soil,  though  it  is  found,  not  very  rarely, 
in  this  country.  We  must  shut  him  up,  poor  devil 
— lepra  maculo-anaesthetica." 

"  Please  explain." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.     The  man's  a  leper." 

Hazell's  pale  eyes  were  lit  with  horror. 


CHAPTER  XYII 

ONE  afternoon  in  the  month  Mrs.  Wenban  de- 
voted nominally  to  the  reception  of  her  friends. 
She  was  socially  "  at  home."  In  fact,  she  was  more 
often  to  be  found  in  her  own  house  on  any  other 
day,  for  her  life  was  so  full  of  deeds  of  kindness  that 
a  free  space  was  run  in  her  engagement-book,  and 
when  found,  as  certainly  once  a  month,  she  would 
hail  it  joyously  and  go  forth  to  do  something  inter- 
esting, unconscious,  till  she  returned  to  find  re- 
proachful pasteboard,  of  the  polite  awfulness  of  her 
act.  Thus  it  was  a  day  or  two  after  her  dinner- 
party. A  drawing-room  missionary  meeting  at 
Government  House,  conducted  by  the  Bishop  of 
Mgronesia,  attracted  her  strongly.  The  sickly 
northeast  wind  blew  heavily,  exhausting  enough,  in 
Mrs.  Bolitho's  speech,  to  take  the  spring  out  of  a 
flea;  but  missionary  enterprise  was  dear  to  Mrs. 
Wenban :  she  went  forth  to  be  melted  and  to  hear 
spiritual  statistics.  It  was  Mrs.  Bolitho  who  re- 
mained on  guard,  sitting  in  a  bamboo  chair  in  the 
darkened  library  in  a  draught  in  a  garment  of  gauze, 
as  she  told  Avis,  who  sauntered  in  about  tea-time 
with  a  complicated  expression  of  countenance.  The 
young  lady  smiled  vaguely,  and  proceeded  to  speak 
upon  her  own  point  of  view  : 

"  What  a  bore  it  is,  aunty,  that  things  occur — 

240 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  241 

take  place — happen — come  to  a  crisis  !  Wamagatta 
is  the  best — nothing  much  happens  there.  Let  us 
go  back  to  it." 

"  Verily  I  was  contemplating  it,  my  dear.  I  am 
longing  for  a  sight  of  my  old  Spencer ;  but  may  I 
ask  what  in  particular  has,  in  journalese,  even- 
tuated?" 

"  I  have  just  refused  to  become  Mrs.  Robert  Wen- 
ban." 

Mrs.  Bolitho  considered  a  moment.  "  I  wonder 
if  that  was  wise  of  you,  my  dear." 

"  I  wonder  myself,  aunty.  Marriage,  you  know, 
is  the  proper  calling  of  woman,  and  I  am  hardly 
likely  to  get  a  better  billet  in  the  matrimonial 
world." 

"  A  refined  and  affectionate  man,  who  may  make 
a  name  for  himself  in  science,"  said  Mrs.  Bolitho. 

"  Plenty  of  money,  too,"  said  Avis. 

"  And  such  a  lovable  mother-in-law !  One  in  a 
million  !  "  said  Mrs.  Bolitho. 

"  And  such  a  reverential  and  measureless  devo- 
tion for  myself  as,  upon  my  word,  made  me  feel 
ashamed." 

"  Oh  Avis ! " 

"  Oh  yes,  aunty,  I  know.  I  may  be  sorry  for  it 
some  day,  but  it  was  of  no  use.  He  begged  me  to 
take  time  to  consider.  I  did  take  time — five  min- 
utes. I  went  to  the  heart  of  the  matter.  I  tried 
to  imagine  him  kissing  me ;  and  then  something 
uprose  in  me  and  hit  him — mentally,  of  course.  It 
was  of  no  use.  I  said  to  him:  'I  like  you  im- 
mensely— I  am  fond  of  you,  indeed  ;  I  could  live  in 


242  HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE 

the  house  with  you  for  ever,  but  I  couldn't  possibly 
be  your  wife.' " 

"  And  then,  of  course,  he  said  what  I  am  going 
to  say — that  the  other  thing  would  come." 

"  Yes,  but  it  wouldn't.  I  know  myself.  "When  I 
am  good,  I  am  a  lamb,  and  when  I  am  not  good,  as 
they  say  in  the  nursery,  I  am  a  perfect  Turk.  I  put 
it  to  him  that  I  couldn't  embitter  his  life  and  his 
mother's  declining  years  by  bringing  myself,  a 
ramping  and  a  roaring  Turk,  into  their  inmost 
bosom.  And  the  dear  man  is  about  broken-hearted. 
What  a  contrarious  world  it  is !  I  thought  I  should 
enjoy  breaking  male  hearts;  I  don't  at  all.  So 
please  let  us  go  back  to  Wamagatta,  where  there 
are  none  to  break." 

A  servant  announced  Miss  Wavertree. 

A  few  minutes  were  spent  in  explanation.  There 
was  the  necessary  setting  forth  of  Mrs.  "Wenban's 
absorbing  regard  for  missions ;  there  was  the  an- 
nouncement of  the  visitor's  intended  departure  for 
a  cooler  altitude,  by  reason  of  which,  with  reference 
to  her  recent  repast,  she  had  to  call  at  once  or 
never. 

A  happy  thought  occurred  to  Mrs.  Bolitho — to 
secure  a  companion  for  Avis  in  case  of  her  return  to 
the  uneventful  loneliness  of  Wamagatta. 

"Will  you  not  come  to  me,  my  dear,  a  little 
later  ? "  she  invited,  in  her  most  cordial  manner. 
"  We  are  hot,  of  course,  in  my  part  of  the  colony, 
but  we  are  dry,  which  is  what  you  want  after  Syd- 
ney, and  all  the  colony  is  hot  in  the  summer,  except 
the  mountains,  where  you  may  have  weeks  of  driz- 


HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE  243 

zle.  My  house  is  really  comfortable ;  not  the  case 
with  Bush  houses  in  general,  and  we  would  do  our 
best  to  amuse  you.  I  feel  that  you  two  girls  should 
have  much  in  common,  and  ought  to  be  better  ac- 
quainted." She  included  both  in  a  genial  glance. 

Miss  Wavertree  hesitated.  Her  courtesy  was 
severely  taxed.  It  had  been  her  hope  that  she 
would  not  meet  Miss  Fletcher  when  she  called. 
She  was  greatly  attracted  by  Mrs.  Bolitho,  as  the 
correct  and  high-minded  of  her  sex  are  invariably 
attracted  by  a  charming  elderly  woman  whose 
position  and  repute  make  her  entirely  "  safe."  One 
knows  so  exactly  where  one  is  with  a  discreet 
matron  whose  present  vouches  for  her  past,  whose 
age  vouches  for  her  future.  Miss  Wavertree  felt 
that  she  could  be  quite  devoted  to  Mrs.  Bolitho, 
and,  further,  she  had  a  great  wish  to  see  something 
of  Bush  ways  comfortably.  The  invitation  tempted 
her,  but,  like  the  correct  and  high-minded  of  her 
sex  in  general,  she  had  a  horror  of  any  female  of 
her  class  who  was  not  quite  nice — quite  nice.  It 
was  improbable  that  she  would  have  found  herself 
in  the  same  house  with  Miss  Fletcher  in  England. 
She  was  sure  she  would  never  have  been  expected 
to  make  of  her  a  personal  friend  in  England.  Helen 
Wavertree  was  nothing  if  not  strict  in  her  princi- 
ples. She  could  not  relax  them  because  she  hap- 
pened to  be  in  New  South  "Wales ;  there  was  far 
too  much  of  that  kind  of  relaxation,  she  had  heard. 

She  coloured  slightly,  and  looked  distressed. 

"  I  should  like  it  of  all  things,  dear  Mrs.  Bolitho, 
thank  you,"  she  said  ;  "  but  I  have  arranged  to  stay 


244  HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE 

at  Banal  with  Mrs.  Lefanu,  who  has  taken  a  cot- 
tage there.  And  then  there's  papa,  who  is  on 
guard,  poor  thing,  and  cannot  get  away  from  his 
ship.  I  don't  like  to  be  too  far  from  him." 

She  did  not  glance  at  Avis,  who  watched  her, 
hard  as  carven  wood. 

Mrs.  Bolitho  persisted.  She  understood  it  all,  but 
she  persisted. 

"Later  on,  then,"  she  said.  "We  expect  Mrs. 
Bengough  any  time  next  year.  You  know  her. 
You  must  come  to  us  when  she  is  at  Wamagatta." 

"  I  should  love  to  meet  dear  Mrs.  Bengough,"  said 
Miss  Wavertree  impressively ;  "  I  have  such  an 
admiration  for  her.  She  is  so  good,  and  so  ex- 
ceedingly good  to  look  at." 

"  Aunty,"  said  Avis,  getting  up  from  her  seat,  "  I 
can't  have  this.  My  mother  wants  no  one  but  me 
when  she  comes  this  side  of  the  world ;  or  if  she 
does,  I  can't  share  her  with  any  one  so  absorbing 
as  Miss  Wavertree." 

There  was  a  pause.  The  visitor's  pretty  cheek 
was  rosy.  Had  her  tenderness  been  less  engaged, 
Mrs.  Bolitho's  natural  malice  would  have  enjoyed  a 
so  well-bred  perplexity.  Avis,  whose  complexion 
never  betrayed  her,  maintained  an  advantage  and 
pressed  the  attack.  She  continued : 

"I  am  sure  Miss  Wavertree  will  understand, 
among  all  the  rest  of  the  virtues,  family  affection." 

Without  haste  or  awkwardness,  civilly  yielding 
the  visitor  to  whom  the  visitor  was  due,  the  heroine 
of  this  tale  disappeared  through  open  Indian  cur- 
tains which  hid  a  room  beyond. 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  245 

Miss  Wavertree  struggled  for  self-possession,  but 
she  was  plainly  disturbed,  distressed ;  she  knew 
herself  right,  but  she  would  rather  for  the  moment 
have  been  wrong.  She  watched  the  curtains  wave 
an  emptiness;  she  listened  to  the  soft  retreating 
steps,  and  spoke  genuinely,  nervously  in  apology : 

"  I  never  saw  any  one  walk  so  well." 

Mrs.  Bolitho  replied  seriously :  "  I  assure  you  her 
soul  is  as  noble  as  her  body." 

Miss  Wavertree  looked  perplexed.  Words  rose 
to  her  lip;  doubts  checked  them  there.  Could 
rumour  be  altogether  wrong  ?  Was  this  clever  old 
lady  deceived  ?  why  this  unending  separation 
from  an  adored  mother  ?  Impulsive  by  nature, 
question  rushed  to  the  brink  ;  training  held  it  there. 
In  a  long  minute  of  silence  her  face  showed  half  a 
dozen  states  of  mind.  Finally  the  most  stable  of 
them  found  utterance : 

"  I  should  so  like  to  like  her,"  she  murmured. 

The  whole  mental  action  was  clear  to  the 
shrewd  mother-wit  before  which  it  was  deployed, 
and  the  character  of  the  player  was  equally  evident 
to  one  who  had  a  fine  intuition  about  her  fellow- 
creatures.  She  resolved  on  a  crucial  blow. 

"  Miss  Wavertree,"  she  began,  "  I  am  going  to 
pay  you  a  very  high  compliment,  to  take  you  into 
my  confidence.  But  first — you  see,  I  am  lame — 
please  ring  the  bell  for  me.  Thanks.  And  now 
look  through  those  curtains  and  make  sure  that 
Avis  is  nowhere  behind  them." 

The  answering  servant  was  told,  in  case  of 
further  callers,  that  Mrs.  Wenban  was  out  and  Mrs. 


246  HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE 

Bolitho  engaged,  and  the  two  ladies  settled  them- 
selves for  undisturbed  statement.  The  elder  had 
made  up  her  mind,  and  when  she  made  up  her 
mind  she  acted  accordingly ;  it  was  her  rule,  the 
habit  of  her  life.  Yet  here  for  a  moment  she 
faltered ;  she  felt  as  though  she  were  about  to  give 
away,  on  her  own  responsibility,  something  that 
was  not  hers — a  most  jealously  guarded  something. 
Surely  silence  was  still  the  only  policy  for  Avis  and 
those  who  loved  her.  Yet  there  is  a  time  to  speak, 
and  there  are  men  and  women  to  whom  it  is  meet 
and  right  to  speak.  The  airy  frivolity  of  summer 
bonnet  and  frock,  the  expensive  frothiness  of  mod- 
ish clothing,  the  candour  of  the  intelligent  face,  of 
English  bloom  and  pinkness,  the  pleasant,  ingenuous 
hazel  eyes  fixed  tentatively  on  her,  contrasted  reas- 
suringly. Now  was  the  moment  to  make  a  friend 
for  Avis  on  both  sides  of  the  sea. 

"  Is  your  chair  so  comfortable  that  you  can  give 
me  your  whole  attention  ?  If  not,  change  it.  I 
make  no  stranger  of  you.  Young  people  are  no 
strangers  to  me.  I  have  had  three  young  men  of 
my  own,  and  two  daughters-in-law,  and  one 
daughter  of  my  heart,  Avis  Fletcher.  But  I  am 
going  to  speak  to  you  as  one  gentlewoman  to  an- 
other. That,  Miss  Wavertree,  is  the  preeminent 
advantage  of  gentle  birth ;  it  is  a  common  ground 
of  mutual  understanding  on  which  those  who  meet 
for  the  first  time — who  never  meet  at  all — can  treat 
each  other  with  entire  ease  and  satisfaction.  My 
discursive  tongue !  They  say  one  has  the  age  of 
one's  heart,  if  it  were  that  of  one's  tongue !  Well, 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  247 

youth  is  excellent,  but  age  has  its  compensations. 
Youth  ought  to  be  silent  in  the  judgment-hall ;  age 
ought  to  speak.  I  take  upon  myself  now  to  bring 
my  adopted  niece  before  the  bar,  and  have  her 
tried  by  her  peer.  There  are  one  or  two  men  who 
would  say  she  was  peerless.  I  don't  submit  her  to 
their  judgment,  but  to  yours." 

"  Do  you  think  I  can  properly  judge  ?  " 

Miss  Wavertree  was  half  afraid  of  the  demand 
that  might  be  made  of  her. 

"  Who  better  ?  I  take  it  you  are  much  of  an  age 
(Avis  is  five-and-twenty).  You  were  born  of  the 
same  soil,  the  same  social  class,  in  the  same  sur- 
roundings; your  people  know  each  other.  Your 
early  trainings  must  have  been  identical,  precept  for 
precept :  to  take  your  morning  bath ;  to  be  true  and 
just  in  all  your  dealings ;  to  maintain  a  decent  re- 
serve, even  in  your  bedchamber.  You  smile  at  my 
leap-frog  style  of  talk.  I  cover  a  great  deal  of 
ground  by  it,  and  mean  no  disrespect  to  my  subject. 
So  far,  then,  you  might  be  sisters,  but  you  are  not. 
Avis  Fletcher  had — has — a  mother  who  is  all  a 
mother  should  be  ;  you " 

Mrs.  Bolitho  paused.  Helen  Wavertree  answered 
her  as  was  expected  : 

"  I  cannot  remember  my  mother  at  all,  but  I  have 
a  father  who  is  the  most  lovable  of  men." 

"  So  I  should  suppose — just  that  beautiful  quality, 
lovable  !  Well,  Avis  Fletcher  had  a  father  who  was 
a  curse  to  every  life  that  came  near  his  own.  In 
whatever  household  he  had  lived,  it  would  have  been 
an  unhappy  one.  Oh,  the  fiction  that  '  homes  are 


248  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

happy ' !  In  my  experience,  every  second  household 
is  torn  and  embittered  by  the  sheer  bad  temper  of 
some  member  or  members  of  it.  jSTo  place  like 
home !  Half  the  population  of  the  British  Empire 
is  thanking  Heaven  that  there  isn't !  I  speak  only 
for  the  British.  I  think  our  tempers  are  worse  than 
most.  I  believe  the  temper  of  the  Rev.  Markham 
Fletcher — you  knew  his  name  and  I  dare  say  his 
fame — to  have  been  one  of  the  worst  imaginable. 
He  was  carping,  spiteful,  ungenial,  suspicious,  and, 
moreover,  at  times  insanely  violent." 

"  I  have  heard  of  his  violence,"  said  Miss  Waver- 
tree.  "  Report  said  all  sorts  of  dreadful  things — 
that  his  fits  of  passion  grew  upon  him  till  he  died  in 
one ;  broke  a  bloodvessel,  and  died  of  rage  at  meet- 
ing his  wife  unexpectedly  in  a  field.  She  had  left 
him  some  time  before." 

"  I  believe  that  to  be  quite  true.  I  believe  her 
life  was  a  long  martyrdom.  I  have  been  told  that 
he  was  remarkably  handsome,  with  that  particularly 
suave  and  deferential  public  manner  which  is  fre- 
quently the  other  side  of  a  private  manner  which 
would  disgrace  a  hog!  I  have  often  noticed  it. 
The  girl  married  him,  I  suppose,  in  an  access  of  girl- 
ish priggish  ness,  and  repented  it  ever  after.  I  be- 
lieve him  to  have  been  also  what  is  called  a  bad 
man.  This  of  itself  would  have  been  terrible 
enough  to  the  bride,  who  thought,  no  doubt,  that 
she  had  wedded  the  Church  Incarnate  ;  but  it  was 
his  uncontrollable  and  unappeasable  humours  that 
made  Coleswick  Vicarage  hateful  and  dangerous 
for  his  child.  If  I  had  any  choice  between  a  sweet- 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  249 

tempered  felon  (undiscovered  !)  and  an  ill-tempered 
righteous,  I  would  take  the  first ;  yes,  my  dear,  and 
so  would  any  woman  of  experience !  When  we  all 
come  to  answer  for  our  sins,  we  British,  you  will 
see  that  those  for  which  we  get  the  blackest  marks 
will  not  be  drunkenness,  nor  hypocrisy,  nor  grasp- 
ingness — of  which  foreigners,  in  their  little  unprej- 
udiced way,  accuse  us  so  persistently — but  our 
domestic  bad  temper  will  be  judged  to  have  caused 
the  greatest  amount  of  unhappiness,  and  ruined  the 
highest  number  of  fellow-creatures'  lives.  Well, 
this  is  a  hobby  of  mine ;  my  Spencer  was  always 
one  of  the  most  amenable  of  born  beings.  *  I  will 
not  know  a  wicked  person,'  said  David — foolish, 
hasty  fellow  !  /  will  not  know,  if  I  can  help  it,  an 
ill-tempered  one  !  Life  is  not  long  enough.  Pardon 
again  for  my  discursiveness;  women  of  the  old 
school  were  never  trained  to  keep  to  the  point.  I 
imagine  the  child's  house — a  parson's  house,  more- 
over, with  the  brute  never  certainly  off  the  premises 
except  on  Sundays !  And  recollect  that  she  is  his 
child  as  well  as  her  mother's.  Recent  physiology 
states,  I  read,  that  we  are  a  quarter  father  and  a 
quarter  mother,  and  an  eighth  of  each  grandparent. 
Avis,  then,  was  a  quarter  and  an  eighth  (old  Major 
Fletcher  was  notorious)  of  imperiousness,  violence, 
vengef ulness,  gall !  And  the  days  were  dull  and 
the  winters  were  dark.  She  was  an  only  child. 
No  stranger  was  allowed  inside  the  door.  No 
noise,  no  piano,  no  laughter  suffered  on  the  prem- 
ises. Picture  it!  I  dare  say,  at  seventeen,  you 
were  spending  your  winters  in  Italy,  and  your 


250  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

springs  in  London.  Avis  was  almost  always  at 
Coleswick.  The  excellent  uncle,  Mr.  Wilbraham 
of  Wilswick — yes,  of  course,  you  know  him — was 
nothing  if  not  an  English  squire — squire-parson. 
Neither  London  nor  Eome  attracted  him  from  his 
beer  and  his  beeves  and  his  rulings  as  rural  dean. 
Country  vicars,  of  course,  cannot  leave  their  work ; 
and  had  Mr.  Fletcher  had  the  wealth,  he  would  not 
have  had  the  will  to  give  his  irreconcilable  daughter 
change  of  scene  and  fresh  companionship.  The 
mother  did  what  she  could ;  her  love  could  soothe, 
but  nothing  could  make  here  a  happy  home  for  a 
passionate,  excitable  girl.  And  then  a  flattering 
yeoman  youth  fell  in  love  with  the  girl's  beauty  and 
vitality,  and  cast  great  eyes  at  her.  Her  father, 
hearing  of  it,  forbade  her  to  speak  to  him — forbade, 
of  course,  with  many  imperious  additions  ;  and  she, 
having  known  the  youth  from  her  childhood,  and 
being,  moreover,  as  I  tell  you,  a  good  part  Mark- 
ham  Fletcher  in  the  matter  of  naughtiness,  dis- 
obeyed, and  entered  on  a  course  of  deceit  that  has 
all  but  destroyed  her  whole  life.  Remember,  she 
was  yet  a  child,  in  the  seething  stage.  "When  one 
does  not  go,  one  is  borne ;  standing  with  expectant 
feet — not  reluctant,  most  expectant — on  the  thresh- 
old of  womanhood.  The  whole  thing,  I  am  con- 
vinced, was  chiefly  bravado.  The  fellow  wasn't  her 
equal  (a  fine  figure  enough  !) ;  and  she  used  to  meet 
him  at  "Wilswick  in  the  empty  Rectory,  which  her 
uncle,  you  know,  being  squire,  occupied  no  longer. 
Falsehood  grew  apace — mischief  likewise.  I  be- 
lieve the  unhappy  child  was  miserable  indeed  before 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  251 

the  end.  You  will  say,  What  was  her  mother  do- 
ing all  this  time  ?  I  can  answer  that :  she  was  at- 
tending to  her  duty  as  a  Vicar's  wife  in  the  house 
and  the  village ;  and  you  must  understand,  I  must 
impress  upon  you,  that  her  position  was  most  diffi- 
cult. The  father  maddened  his  child — roused  all 
that  was  worst  in  her.  I  have  heard  of  the  mean- 
est cruelties :  how  he  killed  her  cat  and  sold  her 
horse,  and  she  hated  him.  Scenes  were  frequent ; 
they  never  met  without  disagreement.  The  child's 
nature  must  suffer.  It  was  best  they  should  be 
apart  as  much  as  possible,  and  Avis  was  the  spoiled 
darling  of  Wilswick  Manor.  Her  continual  ab- 
sences were  attributed  to  visits  there.  Certainly 
she  always  went  in  that  direction.  And  more: 
have  you  never  noticed,  perhaps  in  yourself,  that  at 
a  certain  age  both  boys  and  girls  are  apt  to  become 
estranged  from  their  family — hostile,  unTn.ana.ge- 
able  ?  No  one  can  control  them ;  no  one  of  their 
closest  relatives.  They  are  Ishmaels  from  the 
circle.  It  is  only  a  phase,  but  they  should  spend  it 
among  strangers.  I  believe  it  is  part  of  the  de- 
mand of  each  young  life  for  a  way  of  its  own.  I 
delay  unwarrantably,  Miss  Wavertree ;  but  I  have 
put  my  prisoner  before  the  bar  without  her  knowl- 
edge or  consent,  and  I  must  state  her  case  as  fully 
and  as  fairly  as  possible.  I  see  you  are  trying  to 
follow  me.  Your  face  tells  me  you  are  true-hearted 
and  straight.  Well,  my  dear — my  dear — the  end 
came.  The  yeoman,  Joe,  broke  his  neck  hunting 
or  somehow,  and  Avis  fell  insensible  when  she  heard 
of  it.  Poor  Avis !  I  heard  the  tale  with  tears,  and 


252  HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE 

I  tell  it  again  with  tears.  Miss  Wavertree — so 
young ;  I  believe,  from  my  soul,  so  unfairly  taken 
advantage  of !  Think  of  yourself  at  seventeen  ! 
The  wild  thing  that  I  was  then  !  Her  father  drove 
her  out  of  the  house  within  the  hour.  I  cannot 
dwell  on  this  part  of  it ;  you  can  fill  in  the  details 
for  yourself.  God  judges  him.  Her  mother  fol- 
lowed her,  of  course,  and  nursed  her,  and  held  her 
back  to  life;  and  the  county  rang  with  it — the 
country,  to  some  extent,  rang  with  it.  The  South- 
amptonshire  Wilbrahams  and  the  Fletchers  of 
Fletcherstown !  Such  a  scandal !  You  know  the 
rest,  and  can  guess  what  you  don't  know.  There 
was  no  forgiveness  possible  for  Avis  in  England ; 
but  she  has  found  life  possible,  I  am  glad  to  think, 
in  a  new  country — my  own  country.  Yes,  my  dear 
— yes,  yes  !  But  one  does  rather  enjoy  a  weep,  you 
know ;  after  all,  it  is  a  great  luxury,  when  not  of 
the  hopeless  sort.  Nothing  hopeless  about  Avis 
Fletcher  herself !  The  only  hopeless  thing  is  this 
malice  and  empty  venom  of  the  gossip,  and  the  un- 
quenchable love  of  the  vulgar,  of  the  masses,  for 
what  is  evil  and  of  bad  report,  and  their  joy  in  the 
pillorying  of  any  human  being  of  whatever  kind." 

Helen  Wavertree  was  not  of  the  melting  sort; 
but  she  was  holding  a  hand  of  Mrs.  Bolitho's  with 
one  of  her  own,  while  with  the  other  she  addressed 
her  handkerchief  to  her  tears. 

"  Do  you  think  Avis  would  be  friends  with  me  ?  " 
she  whispered.  "  It  is  nothing  to  be  one  of  the  just 
persons  who  have  never  needed  repentance." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

"EXPECT    us    Saturday.— LUCIA   BENGOUGH, 
R.M.S.  Senegambia,  Albany." 

Thus  ran  the  telegram  received  by  Avis  the  fol- 
lowing morning.  Mrs.  Bolitho's  responsibility  was 
over.  Her  scheme  had  answered,  and  her  letter  of 
demand  had  brought  the  mother  forthwith  across 
the  world,  and  however  the  crisis  should  turn,  it 
would  lack  nothing  of  skilful  treatment.  Avis  was 
transformed  with  happiness.  She  forgot  the  Live 
Un  and  the  world's  malice ;  she  forgave  Miss 
Wavertree,  who  came,  humble  and  discreet,  and  in- 
trigued for  friendship ;  she  was  so  tender  to  Robert 
Wenban,  that  his  sore  heart  conceived  a  shred  of 
hope ;  she  put  away  for  the  first  time  with  some 
success  the  thought  of  Ralph  Hazell.  At  last  she 
was  to  have  at  hand,  in  close  intimacy,  one  to 
whom  she  really  belonged,  who  knew  all  and  loved, 
as  a  matter  of  course.  In  the  few  days  of  eager 
waiting  she  realised  as  never  before  the  sweetness, 
the  value  of  the  family  tie,  the  comfort  of  its  mat- 
ter-of-courseness.  To  be  wayward,  to  have  sinned, 
to  be  creditable,  to  be  glorious,  to  be  loved  none 
the  less,  none  the  more,  for  either,  but  because  one 
belongs  ;  to  be  loved  as  a  right  without  need  for 
gratitude  or  effort ;  to  be  understood  without  ex- 
planation, or  taken  for  granted,  restfully,  without 

253 


254:  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

being  understood — this  is  the  only  satisfactory 
background  from  which  to  contest  the  battle  of 
life.  It  is  the  universal  need,  and  he  has  a  fair 
quarrel  with  fate  who  goes  without  it. 

The  Melbourne  express  brought  Avis  her  dear  be- 
longings, a  party  of  four,  of  whom  at  first  she 
recognised  but  one,  and  acknowledged  only  two. 
A  glimpse  into  a  window  of  the  train,  and  she 
sprang  into  the  corridor  and  a  compartment  off  it, 
where  her  mother's  arms  awaited  her.  No  words, 
properly  so-called,  passed  between  them ;  there 
were  little  sounds  of  full  meaning ;  there  was  an 
impatient  discord  of  an  interfering  hat,  and  a 
golden  head  snuggled  into  a  cordial  circle  of  arm 
and  shoulder,  and  one  heart  was  safe  in  the  eternal 
shelter,  and  one  was  warm  with  the  eternal  sacri- 
fice. 

The  man  in  attendance  waited  patiently.  He 
was  a  little  dry  man,  past  middle  age,  of  a  youthful 
spareness  of  figure,  whose  head  was  thick  with  fair 
curly  hair,  scarcely  touched  yet  by  the  frost  of 
time,  which  had  lined  his  face,  clean-shaven.  His 
wife  had  done  wrong,  in  his  eyes,  once  only  during 
their  lifelong  knowledge  of  each  other — when  in 
her  "  access  of  girlish  priggishness "  she  had  mar- 
ried the  Reverend  Markham  Fletcher.  The  one 
wrong  having  been  amply  rectified,  now  six  years, 
all  else  was  right,  and  he  maintained  toward  her  an 
attitude  of  attention,  silent  and  satisfied.  He 
handed  their  smaller  baggage  through  the  window 
to  a  porter,  and  continued  to  wait  sympathetically. 
No  mortal  could  pass  in  the  space  of  a  railway  car- 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  255 

riage  two  such  Homerically-inoulded  ladies,  but 
Sydney  was  the  terminus ;  there  was  no  reason  for 
hurry.  He  sat  in  a  corner  and  kneaded  his  grey 
travelling-hat.  Presently  Avis  raised  her  head  and 
looked  into  her  mother's  benign  face. 

"  Oh,  how  beautiful  you  are  !  "  she  cried. 

Benignity  was  moved  to  laughter.  The  daugh- 
ter was  pushed  away  a  little,  as  limits  allowed,  and 
answer  was  returned : 

"  But,  my  darling,  you  are  magnificent ! " 

Mr.  Bengough,  in  his  soul,  agreed  with  both,  and 
permitted  another  closure  with  the  utmost  amia- 
bility. Prudence,  however,  had  her  rights. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Avis  ? "  he  interposed  dryly. 
"  The  authorities  will  want  to  swab  down  the  roll- 
ing-stock in  a  minute." 

His  stepdaughter  gave  him  her  hand  indiffer- 
ently. By  degrees  they  reached  the  corridor,  where 
a  spotless  nurse  stood  bearing  a  spotless  bundle. 

"  Darling,"  said  Mrs.  Bengough,  in  her  soft  tones, 
Irish,  like  her  colouring,  "  I  must  introduce  you  to 
your  brother." 

It  awoke  Avis  from  her  emotional  ecstasy.  She 
had  known,  of  course,  that  there  was  a  brother, 
born  to  the  great  surprise  of  all  whom  it  concerned, 
and  the  great  content  of  his  parents — the  crown,  as 
they  said,  of  their  old  age — but  she  had  realised  it 
very  little.  In  her  own  mind  she  was  still  her 
mother's  only  child,  and  she  felt  no  throb  of  kin- 
ship, only  a  mild  impatience  at  the  presence  of  the 
paltry  unknown,  who  meant  nothing  to  any  one  at 
such  a  time  as  this. 


256  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

"  Thomas  Edward,"  said  Mrs.  Bengough,  and  the 
nurse  presented  a  healthy  little  round  of  flesh,  of 
which  the  lineaments  were  composed  in  sleep. 

"  Oh,  I  remember,"  said  his  sister.  "  Thomas 
after  Uncle  Tom,  and  Edward  after  you,  step- 
father." 

"  The  hose  is  really  coming,"  observed  Mr.  Ben- 
gough, and  the  ladies  really  moved  out  and  walked 
along  the  platform  before  him.  The  crowd  had 
cleared  away,  and  he  had  a  full  view  of  them — of 
his  own  Juno  and  HazelPs  Diana.  In  height  and 
scale  they  differed  little  ;  in  complexion,  in  feature, 
and  expression  very  much.  Juno's  hair,  always 
abundant,  once  blue-black,  was  now  iron-grey ;  her 
features  were  the  heavier  and  more  generous,  and 
mellowed  by  experience  into  an  exceptional  dignity 
and  mildness,  in  contrast  with  which  he  noted  the 
eagerness,  the  essential  pride  of  the  younger  traits, 
more  strictly  aristocratically  handsome;  but  in 
each  alike,  allowing  for  the  variance  of  years,  the 
colouring  was  rich,  blooming  in  the  fine  cheek  of 
the  one  and  the  lips  of  the  other. 

They  went  together  to  a  hotel,  where  Mrs. 
Bolitho  awaited  them  with  unstinted  welcome. 
Mrs.  Bengough  pressed  her  hands  and  looked  at 
Avis,  and  pressed  them  again,  saying,  in  an  un- 
steady voice : 

"If  there  is  any  peculiar  quality  in  a  mother's 
gratitude,  a  mother's  blessing  !  " 

The  sea  of  feeling  was  in  springtide  that  day. 

But  a  private  explanation  was  necessary,  and 
must  be  made  quickly,  as  Spencer  Bolitho's  desert- 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  257 

ing  wife  had  a  purpose  of  immediate  return  to  her 
conjugal  duties.  Without  set  statement,  by  a  mar- 
vellous mutual  understanding,  A  vis's  guardian 
women  manoeuvred  that  they  should  be  left  alone 
together;  and  it  seemed  good  to  Mr.  Bengough, 
after  long  weeks  of  the  confinement  of  travel,  to 
move  about.  Avis,  also,  though  reluctantly, 
thought  it  best  herself  to  fetch  her  properties  from 
Gaza,  and  the  pair  departed  in  a  cab.  The  con- 
federates turned  to  each  other  instantly. 

"  Tell  me,  why  did  you  send  for  me  ?  "  said  the 
mother. 

"  She  was  breaking  her  heart  for  a  man  she  had 
refused,  for  no  reason  that  I  know  of,  after  having 
apparently  made  up  her  mind  to  accept  him  with 
every  sign  of  joy.  If  ever  I  saw  two  people  in  love, 
I  saw  them  then — Avis  and  Ralph  Hazell." 

"  Ralph  Hazell !  She  wrote  of  him  to  me,  ask- 
ing about  his  former  life — a  splendid  story.  Oh,  I 
am  so  thankful !  Is  he  the  man  who  is  to  make 
my  child's  happiness  ?  Oh,  I  am  so  thankful !  " 

"  A  splendid  story,  is  it  ?  Well,  I  felt  it  was. 
Not  often  am  I  deceived  in  my  judgment  of  char- 
acter. I  knew  there  must  be  a  story,  and  I  was 
sure  it  would  do  him  honour.  I  liked  him  the  mo- 
ment I  saw  him." 

"I  must  thank  you  for  this  too,  then."  Mrs. 
Bengough's  glance  glistened. 

"  Not  yet,  my  dear — not  yet !  I  am  sorry  to  say 
many  times  lately  I  have  felt  that  the  last  state  of 
her  might  be  worse  than  the  first.  You  know  her 
enthusiastic  nature — not  that  she  confided  in  me,  of 


258  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

course,  directly,  but  I  did  not  need  words ;  she  was 
as  deep  in  despair  as  in  love.  The  man  was  clean 
gone,  retired  to  his  station  like  a  wounded  animal 
to  its  hole,  whence  no  female,  of  course,  could  de- 
cently try  to  lure  him.  You  don't  know  the  mean- 
ness to  which  she  reduced  me.  I  had  to  get  her  at- 
tention away  from  herself,  and  herself  away  from 
Wamagatta.  A  twinge  of  my  old  foe,  sciatica, 
gave  me  the  idea  how.  I  feigned  a  bad  attack  of 
it.  I  knew  the  horrible  thing  so  well  that  there 
was  no  difficulty  about  it ;  and  first  I  demanded 
nursing,  and  second  her  care  here  in  Sydney,  where 
I  came  to  consult  the  profession." 

"  And  the  profession  did  not  find  you  out  ? " 
asked  Mrs.  Bengough,  smiling  and  wondering,  be- 
ing for  her  own  part  altogether  incapable  of  such 
subtle  audacity. 

"  The  profession !  "  cried  Mrs.  Bolitho.  "  Their 
pigs  are  all  in  pokes !  But  if  by  any  chance  my 
poke  had  been  found  transparent,  I  should  have 
changed  my  medical  man." 

"  At  least,  let  me  pay  his  bill,"  protested  Mrs. 
Bengough,  laughing. 

"My  Avis  is  cheap  at  the  price,"  replied  the 
other  wickedly.  "She  seems  to  you  all  right, 
then?" 

"  I  see  nothing  wrong  so  far." 

"  She  is  much  better,  outwardly ;  but  when  the 
excitement  of  your  coming  has  worn  away  — 

Their  subject  entered  upon  them  as  they  spoke. 

"  Mamma,"  she  said,  "  I  sent  Eddy  Bengough  for 
my  trunks,  after  all.  It  wasn't  in  nature  to  leave 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  259 

you  when  I  have  only  just  got  you.  Mrs.  Wenban 
will  be  delighted  to  see  Eddy  Bengough,  and  if  any- 
thing is  forgotten,  I  can  but  fetch  it." 

Mrs.  Bolitho  saved  her  friend's  countenance. 
"  What  a  way  to  speak  of  your  stepfather !  " 

"What  in  the  world  am  I  to  call  him  ?  I  never 
can  decide.  He  used  to  be  Cousin  Eddy;  then 
Uncle  Eddy ;  he  is  always  Eddy  to  everyone.  It 
will  not  matter  how  old  he  grows  or  how  many 
honours  and  acres  he  possesses,  he  makes  no  claim 
for  awe.  A  middle-aged  man  should  be  bald,  or 
baldish,  or  his  hair,  if  thick,  should  be  grey ;  then, 
as  regards  the  figure  of  him,  there  are  certain  con- 
tours for  maturity ;  but  *  Edward  Bengough,  Esq., 
M.P.,  D.L.,  J.P.,  B.A.,  of  Wilsdean  Manor,'  and 
fifty-two  years  of  this  world,  doesn't  carry  a  pound 
more,  I  should  think,  than  he  did  at  twenty-two, 
and  very  few  hairs  less,  and  these  of  a  childishly 
light  brown.  Of  course,  every  one  knows  him  as 
Eddy.  I  dare  say  the  baby  will." 

Mrs.  Bengough  yielded  the  point  of  her  husband's 
appearance.  She  had  served  a  long  and  most  bitter 
apprenticeship  to  the  arts  that  make  for  peace,  and 
she  never  contested  trifles.  This,  for  other  than  a 
despot,  is  the  prime  condition  of  rule  in  the  greater 
things  of  life. 

During  the  fortnight  which  followed  she  had 
scope  for  her  powers  of  combination  and  meliora- 
tion. Avis,  as  we  know,  was  her  only  daughter ; 
Eddy  had  every  moral,  mental,  social  and  legal 
right  to  her  whole  attention.  Thomas  Edward's 
claim  might  almost  be  called  divine ;  it  was  neces- 


260  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

sary  to  blend  these  diverse  demands,  focussing  them 
in  herself  into  a  centre  of  home.  It  was  possible, 
for  each  loved  her,  but  perplexing,  for  each  needed 
her,  and  that  exclusively — a  dilemma,  though  a  flat- 
tering one.  Mrs.  Bengough  had  to  allow  that  Avis 
for  the  moment  came  first,  and  she  relied  on  the 
good  training  of  Eddy  to  admit  it  without  resent- 
ment ;  as  for  her  enforced  neglect  of  Thomas  Ed- 
ward, his  mother  had  lived  a  full  half-century  in 
the  world,  and  she  had  learnt  some  common-sense. 
Yet  there  were  moments  when  she  could  have  shed 
a  self-reproachful  tear  at  the  thought  of  it.  Eddy 
and  Avis,  however,  were  very  happy  out  of  doors 
on  horseback,  risking  their  necks  by  gallops  through 
the  deep  scrub  that  covers  the  cliff  and  waste  lands 
round  Sydney.  Such  hours  could  be  given  unques- 
tioned to  the  youngest  born.  In  the  elder  born, 
watching  her  with  regard  to  Mrs.  Bolitho's  report 
of  her,  she  did  remark  a  change,  not  satisfactory. 
Her  moods  were  unequal,  her  words,  without  pro- 
voking cause,  often  hard  ;  she  was  restless,  yet  re- 
fused any  plan  for  the  future.  The  happiness  of 
their  meeting  was  evidently  not  all-sufficing.  Mrs. 
Bengough  awaited  a  fit  moment  to  introduce  the 
name  and  story  of  Hazell,  but  for  the  first  week  it 
did  not  offer ;  it  must  be  skilfully  done,  no  creak- 
ing of  machinery,  no  haste,  no  unsteadiness  of  voice, 
and  there  must  be  a  clear  space  of  time  for  it,  of 
which  circumstances  did  not  at  first  allow. 

One  evening  Miss  "Wavertree  called,  bringing  her 
father,  and  stayed  long,  informal  and  very  friendly, 
making  it  plain  that,  with  Avis's  goodwill,  she 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  261 

would  like  to  come  to  close  and  lasting  terms. 
Mrs.  Bengough  made  an  extra  thanksgiving  at  the 
bedtime  after  that  visit ;  she  recognised  that  South- 
amptonshire  was  once  more  possible  for  her  exiled 
daughter.  Impossible  that  Helen  Wavertree  had 
not  heard  the  old  story ;  obvious  that  personal  lik- 
ing outweighed  it.  To  all  appearance  the  liking 
was  in  a  fair  way  to  be  mutual,  for  our  heroine 
lacked  no  sort  of  human  capacity,  and  could  appre- 
ciate all  the  better  for  long  deprivation  a  comrade 
of  her  own  sort  and  size.  The  young  women  dis- 
cussed the  cathedral  town  of  Coleminster,  its  holes 
and  corners,  its  chimes  and  canals,  till  Avis's  speech 
failed  her  for  homesickness,  and  the  other  broke  the 
silence  by  exclaiming : 

"  But  athletics  are  the  fashion  now  at  home  ;  not 
art  in  particular.  Anybody  can  get  a  Murray  and 
rave  about  styles  of  masonry.  You  must  play  golf 
before  you  come  home.  I  don't  say  croquet." 

"  "When  you  come  to  "Wamagatta  you  must  teach 
me,"  was  the  reply  ;  and  all  seemed  smooth,  worthy 
of  a  special  thanksgiving. 

There  were  other  callers ;  there  was  a  dinner  at 
the  Wenbans',  and  a  dinner  of  some  fellow-passen- 
gers from  the  Senegambia,  and  a  moonlight  evening 
in  a  launch  upon  the  harbour,  and  at  last  came  an 
evening  of  enforced  quiet.  Eddy  Bengough's  youth 
was  not  wholly  trustworthy,  and  his  stepdaughter 
was  an  unsparing  horsewoman ;  he  returned  fairly 
knocked  up  from  a  rough  ride,  nearly  forty  miles 
long,  which,  for  her,  only  quickened  the  pleasure  of 
a  hot  bath.  He  betook  himself  to  a  long  chair  in 


262  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

the  verandah.  They  sat  watching  the  street  below, 
and  the  silvery  gleam  of  harbour  at  the  end  of  it, 
and  talked  peacefully,  dropping  lazy  phrases  among 
the  softened  cries  of  the  city,  the  clang  of  tram- 
bells,  the  whistle  and  shriek  of  the  traffic  of  the 
port.  Their  faces  were  indistinct  to  the  other,  the 
languor  of  the  hot  night  was  in  the  attitude  of  each. 

"  "Wamagatta  will  brace  you  both  up,"  said  Avis. 
"  It's  a  bleached  desert  this  time  of  year,  and  I'm 
sure  I  don't  know  what  on  earth  you  are  to  do 
there,  but  you'll  be  away  from  these  northeasters." 

"  By  the  way,"  said  her  mother  softly, "  you  men- 
tioned in  one  of  your  letters  a  newcomer  who  had 
taken  a  station  near  there — a  Mr.  Hazell.  You 
fancied  he  had  been  a  soldier ;  you  asked  if  Philip 
Bengough  knew  anything  about  him." 

One  of  the  bamboo  chairs  creaked  violently. 

"  Did  I  ?  "  returned  Avis  abruptly. 

"  Philip  had  a  great  deal  to  say  when  I  asked 
him.  Mr.  Ilazell's  name  and  doings  seem  well 
known  in  India,  and  to  any  one  connected  with  the 
service  in  England.  I  was  immensely  interested.  I 
should  like  to  meet  such  a  high-minded  man."  Mrs. 
Bengough  turned  to  her  husband,  who  was  lying 
quite  flat  in  his  chair  and  smoking  a  cigar  at  the 
sky.  "  Eddy,  you  were  much  interested,  too.  You 
said  you  had  read  about  it  in  the  papers  ;  tell  us  the 
story." 

"  Such  a  long  story,"  said  Eddy  lazily. 

"  So  well  worth  telling,"  said  his  wife.  "  Come, 
dear,  you  can  do  justice  to  a  tale  when  you  care  for 
it." 


HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE  263 

"Oh,  a  very  fine  fellow,  indeed,"  said  Eddy. 
"  Phil  got  quite  enthusiastic  over  him — seemed  to 
think  we  ought  to  know  all  about  it.  I  must  say 
there  are  not  too  many  men  of  his  sort.  Well,  it's 
a  terribly  long  story.  I  shall  cut  it  down  as  much 
as  possible.  Hazell,  rich  fellow,  very  keen  soldier, 
Captain  in  the  Fusilladers,  most  devoted  to  his  wife 
— Miss  Bettingham  (Katie  Bettingham,  daughter  of 
Bettingham  of  Jubbelpore),  pretty  little  thing,  most 
shocking  flirt.  Love-match  on  his  part,  money- 
match  on  hers.  Hazell,  a  by-word  for  devotion  to 
her,  couldn't  see  daylight  where  she  was  concerned. 
Flirted  under  his  nose.  He  thought  it  all  right : 
just  lay  down  and  let  her  walk  over  him.  Talk  of 
the  whole  province.  Colonel's  wife  did  suggest 
something  to  him  once — something  mild  about 
pretty  girls  and  temptation ;  Hazell  blazed  at  her 
till  she  shrivelled  up  and  cried  for  mercy,  and  sent 
his  wife  home  in  the  very  same  ship  as  the  particu- 
lar man  about  whom  the  good  lady  had  warned 
him.  Lots  of  men  talked  about  it ;  they  said  she 
manoeuvred  to  get  sent  home  with  this  particular 
man,  Major  Corthorn,  Fusilladers.  Sick-leave,  both 
of  them,  he  and  she.  Hazell  lived  like  a  monk 
when  she  was  gone — went  nowhere,  played  polo, 
got  up  cricket  among  the  men,  studied  Russian, 
went  nowhere ;  Phil,  quite  eloquent  about  it  all, 
said  there  never  was  such  a  sober  grass-widower. 
It  appears  that  Hazell  had  letters  from  his  wife 
regularly — from  Ilfracombe  chiefly,  where  she  was 
staying  with  her  sister,  she  said,  for  the  bracing  air. 
Hazell  got  a  sudden  attack  of  fever  rather  worse 


264  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

than  usual,  and  all  in  a  minute  got  leave  himself, 
urged  by  fever  and  desire  to  see  his  wife ;  didn't 
cable — happy  surprise  for  her — rushed  off  and  took 
ship  to  join  her.  Not  well  on  board,  not  well  in 
Plymouth  ;  stayed  there  two  nights ;  wired  to  wife. 
First  day  better,  rushed  on  to  Ilf racombe.  No  wife 
there;  no  one  there;  no  one  been  there  for  long 
time.  Mrs.  Hazell  and  her  brother  had  been  there ; 
Indian  letter  every  week,  lately  forwarded  to  Tenby 
and  then  to  London;  wire  forwarded  to  London 
only  day  before ;  postal  limits  for  forwarding  al- 
most reached.  So  much  from  the  post  office.  Ha- 
zell followed  on  to  London  address,  quiet  hotel, 
South  Kensington;  no  one  there.  Telegram  re- 
ceived by  Mrs.  Hazell — yes — and  left  instantly ;  no 
address  given  :  brother  with  her.  Hazell,  anxious, 
wired  to  his  wife's  home;  answer,  'Not  there.' 
He  got  alarmed.  No  suspicion  yet  of  her  true 
character,  but  suspicion  growing  when  he  found 
that  her  brother  and  sister  were  both  at  home  with 
their  parents,  neither  having  stayed  away  anywhere 
with  his  wife.  She  had  been  'with  friends'  at 
Ilf  racombe.  Nonplussed.  Private  detective ;  found 
at  Brighton  ;  Major  Corthorn  daily  visitor,  staying 
in  nearest  hotel.  But  found,  she  refused  to  meet 
her  husband!  No  explanation  was  given;  she 
simply  refused  to  meet  him.  She  did  once  vouch- 
safe to  write  that  he  knew  why  she  refused,  and 
would  soon  know  that  she  knew  also.  Hazell  al- 
most mad  ;  attacks  of  fever  into  the  bargain ;  mad- 
der yet  when  the  notice  came  of  her  intention  to 
file  a  bill  in  divorce  against  himself  on  account  of 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  265 

some  woman  in  Plymouth.  Most  audacious  thing 
ever  heard  of — really  the  most  audacious!  Phil 
knows  a  man  who  was  in  Hazell's  confidence  at  the 
time — says  that  never  was  any  mortal  so  torn  by 
rage,  despair,  incredulity,  desire  for  revenge,  futile 
longing  for  the  woman  he  loved  still ;  and  very  ill, 
too,  with  fever  and  sorrow  mingled.  Says  that  one 
night  it  took  three  of  them  to  hold  him,  and  he 
ought  to  have  been  in  a  strait-jacket.  His  policy, 
of  course,  as  they  all  said,  was  a  counter-charge ; 
the  proofs  of  her  misdoing  were  as  large  as  they 
well  could  be,  but — a  counter -charge — he  wouldn't 
bring  it.  Would  you  believe  it?  He  wouldn't 
bring  it!"  Eddy  warmed  with  his  subject,  and 
sat  up,  addressing  Avis  vehemently.  "The  man 
wouldn't  say  a  word,  wouldn't  answer  to  deny  the 
most  preposterous  and  abominable  accusation  ever 
made  against  a  devoted  husband — either  too  proud 
or  too  generous ;  said  she  might  bring  a  charge  of 
murder  against  him — personal  cruelty  was  all  one 
with  it — she  was  his  no  longer.  She  had  never 
existed  as  he  knew  her — she  didn't  exist!  There 
was  no  action  to  meet.  Then,  again,  he  would  say 
that  he  had  loved  her  ;  that  his  name  was  still  hers, 
and  should  not  be  dragged  through  the  dirt  by 
cross-examination;  least  said,  soonest  mended.  If 
she  wanted  to  be  free,  this  was  the  best  way  for  her 
freedom  to  come  to  her.  A  charge  against  a  man 
who  had  already  suffered  the  worst  that  could  be 
suffered — a  charge  of  any  sort — could  not  toucli 
him.  Nothing  moved  him.  Case  came  on — no  de- 
fence— decree  nisi — Major  and  Mrs.  Corthorn. 


266  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

They  say  Hazell  would  sit  for  hours  staring  before 
him,  only  shouting  at  intervals,  '  How  could  she  ? ' 
They  thought  his  reason  would  go — thought  he 
would  go  all  to  pieces;  but  strong  man,  pulled 
through — at  great  cost,  though;  gave  up  every- 
thing; sold  out;  passed  his  old  friends  in  the 
streets — disappeared.  Finally,  I  suppose,  has  be- 
gun life  again  this  side  of  the  world,  and  may 
better  luck  attend  him.  I  should  like  to  meet  him. 
I  hope  things  will  make  amends." 

Eddy  paused  and  lay  down  again. 

"  I  hope  so,  too,"  said  his  wife  earnestly. 

Avis  said  nothing.  She  was  able  to  keep  silent ; 
that  was  all  her  strength  allowed,  and  it  was  all 
that  her  strength  could  do.  The  city  below  and 
the  sky  above  were  blotted  out  by  the  surge  in  her 
eyes,  and  in  her  ears  the  roaring  pulse  cut  her  off 
from  the  rest  of  the  world.  All  was  tumult. 


CHAPTEK  XIX 

THE  hours  of  the  night  told  themselves  forth  ruth- 
lessly in  the  wakeful  ears  of  Avis.  Whether  they 
came  faster  or  more  slowly,  she  could  not  decide ; 
sometimes  the  interval  between  one  quarter  and 
another  seemed  but  a  few  minutes ;  sometimes  the 
chime  so  tarried  to  her  listening  that  she  felt  she 
must  have  missed  at  least  one  striking  of  it.  The 
trams  ceased,  the  cabs  ceased,  the  post  office  clock 
and  the  moon  were  left  in  possession  of  the  city. 
All  slept,  it  seemed  to  Avis,  but  herself  and  them. 
Partly  she  dozed  herself,  or,  rather,  lay  between 
sleeping  and  waking,  as  they  do  whose  fine  habit  of 
oblivion  will  not  be  wholly  denied  by  even  the 
most  stirring  emotion.  But,  keen  or  dull,  every 
nerve  of  her  dwelt  on  Hazell  and  his  story.  It 
drew  her  to  him  as  his  magnetism  would  have  drawn 
her  had  he  been  there ;  the  world  held  nothing  but 
him.  A  sense  of  him  permeated  her  as  the  ether 
permeates  the  earth,  and  pulsed  through  her  with 
the  universal  pulsation.  Memory,  lately  stifled, 
took  its  revenge,  and  she  could  have  groaned  aloud 
with  the  pain  of  longing.  The  tale  of  his  wrong 
worked,  fermented,  in  her  brain.  His  pride  had 
been  as  great  as  her  own,  his  suffering  equal,  and 
the  scandal  which  had  goaded  him  to  madness,  and 
the  despair  to  which  he  had  all  but  succumbed,  and 
the  courage  of  his  new  start  in  life,  commended  him 

267 


268  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

to  her,  tied  them  in  a  bond  of  brotherhood  that  was 
almost  more  than  loverhood.  But  his  magnanimity, 
his  nobleness,  divided  them  for  evermore.  He  had 
been  blameless,  devoted;  he  had  accepted  blame 
and  a  public  record  for  broken  faith.  He  had  dis- 
dained vengeance  when  it  lay,  even  according  to 
law,  under  his  hand.  She  looked  into  her  own 
heart  of  the  past,  and  saw  there  her  own  cries  and 
yearnings  for  vengeance.  She  looked  back  to  the 
beginning  and  saw  her  own  temerity,  selfishness. 
He  was  nobler  than  she ;  he  was  too  noble  for  her. 
His  wife  must  be  a  woman  without  blemish,  on 
whom  no  shadow  had  fallen,  whose  uprightness  was 
as  his  own,  whose  spirit  was  unclouded.  It  was 
well  they  had  parted ;  yet,  that  it  should  have  been 
for  her  to  grieve  him,  to  deny  him,  to  turn  his  ris- 
ing hopes  to  bitterness  and  darken  his  days  once 
more !  It  would  be  so  easy  to  sacrifice  her  own 
pride,  she  thought,  swayed  by  opposing  mental  cur- 
rents; so  easy  to  forget  her  own  prejudice  and 
dignity  ;  because  he  wanted  her,  to  give  herself  up 
to  make  him  happy.  The  sweetness  of  the  imagina- 
tion possessed  her.  She  went  to  the  table  and  sat 
down  to  write  a  word  by  which  she  bid  him  come 
— if  he  could  ;  then  she  plunged  into  a  sea  of  in- 
toxicating fancy :  no  more  struggle,  nothing  but 
satisfaction  in  his  arms  !  Again  temperament  and 
training  forbade  the  dream.  It  was  not  for  her  to 
bring  him  comfort.  There  must  be  no  more  disap- 
pointment for  him.  Found  worthless,  he  had 
spoken  of  that  other  woman,  Katie,  as  dead.  If  he 
knew  her,  Avis  Fletcher,  would  he  not  also  find  her 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  269 

worthless  and  look  upon  her  as  dead  ?  But,  with- 
out his  full  knowledge,  she  would  never  summon 
him,  never  accept  him,  never  go  to  him.  There 
should  be  no  more  deceit,  no  more  terrible  awaken- 
ing; better  for  both  a  never  realised  joy.  She 
could  love  him  without  sign,  and  die  faithful,  proud 
that  he  had  ever  loved  her. 

The  inoon  sank,  the  warm  dawn  took  possession 
of  its  due  breadth  of  earth,  the  flagship  gun  boomed 
— the  night  was  over. 

Only  one  night!  Mrs.  Bengough  saw  its  true 
duration  in  her  daughter's  face.  Years  were 
marked  there  when  they  met,  and  she  saw  their 
traces  with  dismay. 

And  all  that  storm  had  arisen  from  the  hearing 
of  a  name  !  Were  those  the  blue  shades  of  pity  or 
the  lines  of  longing  ?  How  might  both  be  ban- 
ished ?  The  mouth  was  frozen  into  hardness — her 
father's  mouth  at  his  most  implacable.  By  fault  of 
character  or  of  circumstance,  was  there  no  noontide 
of  gladness  for  her  ? 

They  spent  a  silent  day.  Eddy  was  the  smallest 
of  speakers,  and  had,  besides,  been  advised  in  his 
bedchamber  of  the  conditions  round  him.  He 
rested,  and  left  this  matter,  as  most  of  others,  to  his 
wife  and  to  time.  Thomas  Edward  was  fractious 
with  the  heat ;  his  temperature  was  somewhat 
raised,  and  he  kept  his  crib  with  cooling  drinks. 
Avis  was  too  weary  to  know  if  there  was  talk  or 
not.  "  Let  me  not  see  the  sun  !  "  Avas  in  her  mind, 
and  she  abode  all  the  long  summer  day  within 
doors  in  a  darkened  room.  A  complaint  of  heat,  a 


270  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

decent  pretence  of  reading,  enabled  her  to  shut  out 
the  intolerable  glare.  The  sun  ruled  the  sky,  ruled 
the  city,  hated  and  feared  of  all  men.  Lucia,  too, 
resented  his  brilliancy,  thought  of  persuading  her 
dear  one  home  to  England,  where  there  is  green  for 
tired  eyes  and  soft  misty  airs  for  soothing.  Nature 
should  mourn  with  us  when  we  weep ;  when  we 
pipe  to  her,  she  will  always  dance. 

Suggestions  were  made  by  one  or  other  for  an 
evening  excursion,  but  all  were  half-hearted,  made 
by  each  of  the  party  in  turn  with  reference  to  the 
other  two,  with  a  pious  pretence  about  them ;  and 
evening  found  them  again  on  the  verandah  out  of 
their  rooms,  with  the  serene  moonlight  upon  the 
movement  of  the  street. 

Avis  drowsed  in  her  chair — a  whisper  woke  her. 
She  saw  her  mother,  sitting  at  Eddy's  side,  point 
with  a  finger  of  delight  to  something  within,  where 
the  baby  lay  in  his  cot,  and  she  presumed  a  glimpse 
of  him  in  a  peculiarly  ravishing  attitude.  Eddy 
smiled,  took  possession  of  the  finger  and  the  hand 
belonging  to  it,  and  held  them  in  i'ond  tranquillity. 
The  daughter  awoke  to  her  isolation — the  woman 
to  her  desolation.  She  was  not  one — yet — to  look 
on  happiness  through  other  eyes.  She  got  up  and 
went  in. 

Lucia  sighed  to  her  husband  :  "  If  only  we  Eng- 
lish were  not  so  reserved  with  each  other  !  " 

Eddy  answered  along  his  pipe :  "  Well,  we  are, 
and,  personally,  being  English,  I'm  glad  of  it. 
Don't  see  how  one  could  live  in  the  house  with  peo- 
ple who  gabbled  about  everything  they  felt." 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  271 

"  I  think  we  should  often  suffer  less  if  we  could, 
or  would,  only  speak." 

"  I  think  some  of  us  would  suffer  a  deuced  lot 
more  !  Besides,  my  dearie,  surely  you  know  by 
this  time  that  lots  of  things  actually  perish  in  si- 
lence, whereas  they'd  be  green  bay-trees  if  one 
talked  about  'em." 

"  Always  two  sides  to  every  question — my  poor 
Avis!" 

"  Terrible  business,  these  early  love-stages,"  said 
Eddy.  "  Wonder  why  they  couldn't  have  been  ar- 
ranged to  get  here  straight  away  !  "  He  stroked 
with  his  thumb  the  hand  he  held,  and,  looking  into 
the  room  again,  remarked  contentedly  :  "  Funny 
little  pink  paw  of  babsy's  !  " 

They  both  gazed  at  the  pink  paw  and  beheld  in 
it  all  loveliness. 

Avis  came  back  with  a  secular  air,  saying : 

"  We've  had  a  nice  lazy  day  !  But  I've  put  it  out 
of  our  power  to  do  such  another  to-morrow.  I've 
just  telephoned  to  Dr.  Outram  to  take  us  all  out  to 
Parvaporta  hospital  and  show  us  over.  He  is  to  be 
here  at  half -past  four  with  a  victoria  and  two  riding- 
horses.  I  shall  ride  both  ways,  and  you,  mamma, 
will  drive.  You,  Mr.  B.,  will  ride  one  way  and  he 
the  other,  and  you  will  drive  the  other  way  and  he 
the  one,  as  you  please.  You  have  full  liberty  of 
choice  within  these  limits,  and  the  elder  lady  of  the 
party,  who  has  no  more  love  for  the  pigskin,  will 
be  properly  attended.  As  for  the  younger  lady, 
with  any  sort  of  a  mount  but  a  buck-jumper,  she 
can  attend  to  herself." 


272  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

Parvaporta  lies  some  miles  south  of  Sydney,  on 
the  ocean  shore,  in  the  wild  moors  that  stretch  very 
sombre,  very  solitary,  swept  by  all  the  wild  winds 
that  swoop  upon  the  land  from  the  sea.  The  scrub- 
grown  soil  reaches  its  arms  of  low  cliffs  round  a 
beautiful  blue  semicircle  of  waters,  which  bear  into 
them  from  the  east,  and  neither  hill  nor  tree  pre- 
vents its  endless  bath  of  air  and  sunshine.  A  small 
jetty  accommodates  the  resident  officer's  boat ;  a 
tiny,  narrow,  white  road  lengthens  out,  miles  long, 
toward  the  city.  Otherwise  Parvaporta  lies  alone 
— a  hospital,  and  nothing  more ;  cut  off  deliberately 
from  human  society,  a  spot  appointed  for  the  war- 
fare of  man  with  microbe.  The  white  buildings  of 
it  are  dazzling  in  colour  and  cleanliness,  within  and 
without,  and,  one-storied,  verandahed,  branch  from 
a  centre.  Looked  at  from  above,  from  a  balloon, 
they  might  seem  half  a  white  starfish  thrown  up 
from  the  ocean. 

Avis  wore  a  white  veil ;  but  Dr.  Outram,  trained 
in  observation  and  more  than  ordinarily  observant 
of  her,  noticed  the  sadness  and  fatigue  upon  her 
face — noticed  them  resentfully.  As  a  man  deeply 
interested,  he  resented  interests  of  hers  that  were 
beyond  him ;  but  he  acknowledged  inwardly  that 
it  was  best  so.  Had  her  fancy  been  disengaged 
and  her  mood  of  the  melting  kind  that  afternoon, 
he  would  have  presumed  upon  it  to  offer  her  his 
great  ambitions,  his  considerable  powers  of  realising 
them — his  poverty.  The  average  feminine  woman 
presents  to  man  an  approbative  smile,  an  encourag- 
ing question,  an  appreciative  comment ;  she  makes 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  273 

social  things  easy  for  him.  Avis  made  things  easy 
for  no  man ;  but  whereas  her  commanding  vitality 
attracted  him,  her  imperious  temper  protected  her 
against  his  attack. 

This  afternoon  she  was  not  imperious ;  she  was 
indifferent,  withdrawn,  gentle.  Robert  Outram  re- 
alised that  he  could  never  offer  her  anything.  In 
what  touches  the  material,  he  had  always  known 
her  use  and  expectation  to  be  richer  than  his  own  ; 
he  saw  now  that  the  emotional  touch  also  was  not 
for  him.  He  rode  by  her  side  in  silence.  His 
horse  was  quiet ;  so  ordered  for  Eddy's  sake,  who 
had  regard  to  his  own  stiff  muscles.  The  accom- 
panying carriage,  following  a  little  behind,  gave 
them  no  conversational  aid ;  they  avoided  each 
other's  dust,  that  was  all. 

Outram  remarked  upon  the  curious  dry  vegeta- 
tion of  the  sandy  seaboard — the  ti-trees,  the  epacris, 
the  grotesque  stunted  banksias,  which  seem  to  the 
unaccustomed  eye  to  have  been  devised  as  a  back- 
ground for  the  demon  scene  of  a  vast  pantomime. 

Avis  hoped  he  was  taking  in  a  store  of  heat 
to  fortify  him  against  London  fog,  and  recom- 
mended New  Zealand  as  a  revelation  in  vegetation. 
The  northeaster  blew  them  along,  the  sunlight  was 
consuming.  The  fence  of  the  hospital  enclosure 
came  in  sight,  and  the  white  gate  with  the  name 
painted  large  upon  it. 

"  I  wonder  how  my  friend  Benmonica  likes  his 
billet,"  said  Outram,  with  an  effort. 

"  Benmonica !     What  a  curious  name  !  " 

"  A  Jew,  of  course ;  three  years   my   senior  at 


274  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

Bart's.  Clever  fellow  with  a  phthisical  tendency. 
He  came  here  for  his  health.  Lucky  to  get  this, 
though  it  seems  a  little  remote." 

"Everything  is  remote  in  Australia,  outside  the 
cities.  But  you  can  make  your  life  where  you 
please,"  answered  Avis. 

"  Of  course,  and  I  believe  he  does  good  work 
here.  The  place  is  a  model  of  what  such  places 
should  be ;  and  there  is  the  sunshine,  and  that  mag- 
nificent blue  sea " 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Avis ;  "  one  could  be  very  happy 
here,  I'm  sure." 

As  she  spoke  she  resumed  in  her  memory  the  im- 
pression of  days  of  an  awful  desolation  of  sunshine. 
As  he  spoke,  Outram  realised  a  little  what  that 
desolation  might  be ;  for  the  born  Briton,  born 
among  the  tender  melancholy  of  brooding  mists  and 
soft  rain,  there  is  no  sorrow  so  uncomforted  as  that 
under  a  glare  of  tropical  sun. 

The  Bengoughs  drove  up,  and  the  party  gained 
entrance  to  the  hospital.  Dr.  Benmonica,  a  frail 
figure  with  an  eager  air,  took  them  round  his 
wards.  He  was  an  enthusiastic  hygienist,  sceptical 
as  to  the  good  of  drugs,  coquetting  with  the  here- 
sies of  homoeopathy  and  hydropathy.  He  con- 
fessed to  a  longing  for  the  strong  intellectual  fric- 
tion of  the  Old  World,  but  declared  that  "  Practice 
College — Practice  College — is  the  only  school  for 
real  learning."  Practical  were  the  details  of  the 
hospital,  and  most  complete.  Cleanliness  and  util- 
ity everywhere ;  light  and  air  and  water ;  beds  and 
boards  and  nothing  else  to  speak  of ;  no  harbour- 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  275 

age  anywhere,  so  far  as  human  foresight  could  pre- 
vent, for  the  most  insinuating  germ. 

"  I  don't  wonder  that  people  like  to  be  ill  in  their 
own  homes  among  their  own  familiar  dirt,"  said 
Avis  to  Outram.  "  It's  enough  to  make  one  die  of 
despair,  all  this  blazing  cleanliness !  Isn't  it  a  pen- 
ance in  convents  and  such-like  places  to  sit  opposite 
to  a  white  wall  and  do  nothing — a  penance  that  re- 
sults in  idiocy?  I'd  rather  be  in  my  own  dear 
cabin,  on  my  own  well-known  rags,  with  my  own 
dear  pigs  and  fowls  running  in  and  out,  stifling 
with  my  own  peat  smoke,  and  unresistant  to  my 
own  fleas " 

"You  have  not  only  yourself  to  consider,"  he 
answered,  laughing. 

"  I  am  no  socialist,"  she  replied. 

"  You  are  a  heathen  Chinee,"  he  returned. 

As  the  visit  drew  to  an  end,  Benmonica  addressed 
Mrs.  Bengough  on  a  sudden  thought : 

"  There  is  a  fellow-countryman  of  yours — a  fellow- 
countryman  here ;  admitted  yesterday  to  the  lazaret, 
I  am  sorry  to  say.  Would  you  like  to  see  him? 
Nothing  distressing  yet,  though  the  mind  is  evi- 
dently dulling  a  little  from  the  general  tendency  of 
the  disease." 

Lucia  Bengough  was  known  for  deeds  of  kind- 
ness. 

"  Poor  fellow  !  Let  me  see  him,  then.  Where 
did  you  say  he  was  admitted  ?  " 

"He  is  in  the  lazaret — the  leper  lazaret.  We 
don't  allow  visitors  there  except  by  special  desire. 
It  stands  apart,  you  know," 


276  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

"  How  dreadful !  I  never  thought  to  come  so 
close  to  leprosy.  Have  you  many  sufferers  there  ?  " 

"  This  man — I  forget  his  name — makes  the  eight- 
eenth, and  the  fourth  white  man  in." 

"  Let  me  see,  Lucia,"  Mr.  Bengough  interrupted, 
"  you  say  positively,  Dr.  Benmonica,  that  there  is  no 
risk  of  infection  ?  " 

"  As  far  as  our  experience  goes  in  these  circum- 
stances, or  I  would  not  suggest  your  visit." 

"  There  can  be  no  object  in  your  going,"  said 
Outram  to  Avis.  He  shrank  from  the  idea  of  near- 
ness between  herself  and  a  leper. 

"  If  it's  safe  for  my  mother "  she  answered. 

"  To  the  best  of  our  knowledge  and  belief,  I  sup- 
pose it  is  safe,"  he  answered.  "  But  you  must  re- 
member that  we  know  practically  nothing  about 
the  disease,  except  that  it  is  slow,  dreadful,  and  in- 
curable. There  are  terrible  sights  even  there  in 
that  white  row  of  cells." 

His  artifice  succeeded  with  her.  Avis  liked  ter- 
rible sights  no  better  than  most  of  us  do. 

"  Stay  with  me  here,  then,"  she  said,  "  and  let  us 
ask  the  matron  to  give  us  some  tea." 

The  Bengoughs  went  with  the  medical  officer 
across  a  dividing  paddock  to  the  department  char- 
acterised by  Outram  as  the  white  row  of  cells,  which 
stood  in  an  enclosure  always  carefully  locked — a 
line  of  neat,  one-storied  cottages,  with  the  inevitable 
verandah  to  the  front,  upon  which  all  the  rooms 
opened.  The  lazaret  looked  over  an  exercise  ground 
of  a  few  acres  of  scrub  to  the  unbounded  stretch  of 
the  Pacific.  The  rooms  were  comfortable,  assigned 


HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE  27T 

in  ones  and  twos  to  each  patient,  and  there  was  a 
common  room  where  they  could  meet  while  strength 
or  inclination  permitted.  Humanity  and  refinement 
had  arranged  their  surroundings,  but  their  impris- 
onment was  absolute. 

"  First-class  misdemeanants  for  life,"  said  Eddy 
dryly. 

"Did  these  men  sin  or  their  parents?"  Lucia 
returned. 

Dr.  Benmonica  answered  her:  "I  have  often 
asked  myself  that,  thinking  of  my  damaged  lungs. 
But  I  assure  you  they  are  not  unhappy.  They 
grumble,  of  course — sick  people,  and  other  people, 
always  do  that ;  but  their  finer  sensibilities  are 
dulled." 

They  caught  sight  through  a  window  of  a  sufferer 
whose  head  and  face  were  muffled.  A  lad,  quite 
young,  came  out,  hearing  voices,  and  nodded  to 
them.  His  hands  were  hidden ;  the  skin  of  his  fore- 
head was  curiously  roughened  and  reddened.  He 
claimed  attention  for  his  pots  of  flowers  and  ferns ; 
said  he  had  felt  much  better  lately. 

"  Only  seventeen — a  sad  case,"  said  the  con- 
ductor. 

"  How  do  they  get  it  ?  "  murmured  Lucia,  deeply 
moved. 

"  How,  indeed ! "  answered  the  doctor,  with  a 
shrug. 

They  passed  along  the  verandah. 

"  Here  is  our  man  outside,"  said  Dr.  Benmonica, 
and  pointed  to  a  small  figure  under  a  broad  Panama 
hat  which  sat  in  the  open,  half-way  between  the 


2T8  HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE 

buildings  and  the  sea,  as  if  to  catch  the  full  hot  ray 
of  the  sinking  sun. 

The  basking  man  took  no  notice  of  the  sounds  of 
their  approach ;  he  sat  motionless  among  the  boronia 
bushes.  Benmonica  shook  him  by  the  shoulder, 
saying,  "  Visitors  for  you ; "  and  a  stiff  hand  was 
put  slowly  up  to  push  the  hat  back  from  a  blotched 
and  wizened  face. 

"  Visitors  from  Southamptonshire.  They  tell  me 
you  came  from  there,"  said  Mrs.  Bengough  sweetly, 
smiling  and  trying  to  recognise  him. 

The  patient  knew  her  after  a  dazed  moment,  and 
started  up,  showing  an  agony  of  fear. 

"'Ere's  more  of  'em!"  he  shrieked.  "They'll 
cop  me  at  last ;  I  know  they  will.  Mrs.  Fletcher, 
ma'am,  don't  'ee  say  you've  come  for  me.  Gawd's 
treuth,  I  never  touched  the  stack,  nor  the  barn 
neither.  But  appearances  was  again  me,  and  I  took 
my  refuge  in  flight.  I  'ave  tried  to  keep  myself  re- 
spectable, Gawd's  treuth  I  have,  in  this  far  country, 
till  my  pore  'ands  was  all  spoiled  by  Bathurst  burrs, 
and  not  out  yet,  nor  like  to  be,  by  what  they  tell 
me.  Is  it  like  I  would  lay  a  match  to  a  stack  or 
barn  ?  Is  it  like  I  would  do  such  a  thing,  and  me 
country-bred  and  knowing  the  ruin  of  it  ?  I  was 
never  near  to  Copping's  that  night,  which  I  could 
prove,  only  a  pore  man  'as  no  money  for  the  law, 
nor  friends.  You  was  always  good  to  the  poor, 
Mrs.  Fletcher." 

Lucia  fell  back  a  little  under  the  hysterical  on- 
slaught, disconcerted,  dismayed.  Her  husband  came 
a  step  nearer,  and  drew  her  arm  within  his  own. 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  279 

"  What  is  all  this  ?  "  she  asked.  "  I  can't  remem- 
ber this  man.  There  is  nothing  to  be  alarmed  about, 
my  poor  fellow.  I  don't  even  know  your  name ; 
but  if  I  did,  I  would  do  you  no  harm.  What  is  it  ?  " 

He  told  her  abjectly,  and  shivered  in  the  blaze 
of  the  sun,  maundering  on  about  his  "  pore  'ands  " 
and  the  burrs,  and  having  been  in  Coleminster  for 
the  yeomanry  meet  on  the  very  day  the  barns  were 
burnt.  Recollection  came  to  her — a  vision  of  burn- 
ing barns  and  red  smoke  rising  in  an  August  mid- 
night sky,  and  a  memory  of  a  great  local  outcry. 
But  it  was  long  ago ;  harvests  had  come  and  gone. 
She  put  aside  the  miserable  statement,  wishful  only 
to  soothe. 

"  That  is  all  over — years  past,  Rennard,"  she  said. 
"  No  one  thinks  of  you  any  more,  and  I  shall  say 
nothing  about  you,  I  promise  you,  nor  tell  any  one 
where  you  are.  I  am  here  only  on  a  visit.  I  am  so 
sorry  about  your  hands ;  but  if  they  can  be  cured 
anywhere,  it  will  be  here,  and  you  have  such  com- 
fortable quarters.  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you  in  such 
a  beautiful  place.  This  is  Mr.  Bengough,  of  Wils- 
dean.  You  remember  him  ?  " 

He  peered  at  all  in  turn,  unreconciled,  shivering 
still,  and  squeaking  incoherently  about  Copping, 
who  had  sacked  him  unjustly,  and  Hazell,  who  had 
done  the  same,  and  their  deserts,  if  such  were  to 
be  had.  Then,  turning  insolent,  he  screamed  that 
if  his  visitors  didn't  want  him,  he  didn't  want  them, 
and  wasn't  afraid  of  no  man.  He  had  kept  himself 
respectable  on  both  sides  of  the  sea,  he  had,  as  all 
who  knew  him  could  say ;  and  that  was  more  than 


280  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

could  be  said  for  all  as  made  quite  another  appear- 
ance. 

Lucia  turned  away  to  her  companions,  saying : 

"  We  can  do  no  good." 

"His  nerve  is  gone,"  answered  Dr.  Benmonica. 
"  I  meant  well ;  he  has  had  visitors  already  to-day, 
and  is  over-excited." 

They  moved  away;  but  she  lingered  a  minute, 
looking  at  the  superb  field  of  ocean,  deeply  blue, 
and  the  long  waves  of  exquisite  green  which  broke 
in  a  foam  of  snow  upon  the  glistening  border  of 
ivory  sand. 

"A  lovely  prison  indeed,"  she  said  at  length, 
"  and  peace  here  to  the  end." 

Avis  and  Dr.  Outram  had  been  entertained  with 
tea  at  their  desire,  and  the  matron,  who  gave  her 
leisure  to  her  garden,  had  taken  them  outside  to 
see  her  rock-lilies.  But  the  mind  of  Avis  ran  on 
disease  ancf  death,  as  is  the  way  with  visitors  to  a 
hospital. 

"  You  must  have  seen  a  great  many  ways  of 
dying,"  she  said  to  the  matron.  "Which  is  the 
least  dreadful,  do  you  think  ?  Which  would  you 
choose  for  yourself,  if  you  could  choose  ?  " 

The  answer  was  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders. 

"  Upon  my  word,  I  don't  know ;  they  are  all  bad 
when  you  come  to  the  point." 

"  Is  there  no  such  thing  as  a  peaceful  exit,  then  ?  " 

"  Oh,  for  old  people.     I  don't  say " 

"  A  little  revolver  shot  in  due  season ;  that  is  one's 
only  chance  of  neatness  and  tidiness  and  decency." 

"  Neatness,  tidiness,  decency ! "  repeated  Outram, 


HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE  281 

laughing ;  "as  if  Nature  cared  about  any  of  them  ! 
Nature  has  no  nose — Nature  has  no  eye — Nature 
has  no  sense  of  decency.  If  you  want  all  these 
highly  artificial  attributes,  there  is  much  to  be  said 
for  the  non-natural  revolver  shot ;  but,  in  kindness 
for  your  friends,  choose  your  time  and  place  for  it. 
Let  it  be  in  a  cold  country,  and  say  in  the  snow — 
no  decay,  no  flies ! " 

"  Ugh ! "  said  Avis  ;  and  then  it  seemed  as  though 
indeed  some  kind  of  charge  had  struck  her. 

She  was  conscious  of  a  violent  shock,  of  a  reeling 
of  the  world  round  a  tall  man  in  white,  whose 
glance,  light-grey  and  very  penetrating,  was  on  her. 

He  came  quickly  up,  walking  with  a  yellow  man 
in  yellow  clothes,  whom  she  did  not  see  at  all. 

Outram,  noting  the  change  in  her,  thought  it  a 
sudden  realisation  on  her  part  of  the  horrors  of 
death,  and  sought  about  for  a  lighter  topic  for 
their  talk.  Before  he  found  it,  the  yellow  man 
was  speaking: 

"  We  saw  the  patient,  matron,  and  all  the  rest  of 
them.  I  shall  remember  your  permission  to  come 
again.  Most  interesting  cases — particularly  that  of 
the  New  Liverpool  postmaster." 

Outram's  attention  was  gained  in  a  moment. 
The  joy  of  "cases"  absorbed  all  three.  Hazell 
raised  his  hat  suddenly,  as  though  he  had  just 
recognised  Miss  Fletcher  as  an  acquaintance.  She 
seemed  to  herself  rigid  in  space,  but  to  an  onlooker 
— and  for  the  moment  there  was  none  such — she 
bowed  very  distantly. 

"  I  am  coming  to  see  you,"  said  Hazell  quickly. 


282  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

Avis  felt  as  though  he  came  closer,  as  though  his 
concentrated  will  pressed  on  her ;  but  force  always 
failed  with  her,  and  she  was  roused  to  antagonism 
as  relentless  to  herself  as  to  him. 

"Why?  "she  replied. 

He  felt  the  resistance,  the  impalpable  barrier  be- 
tween them.  He  hurled  himself  against  it  boldly. 

"  Why  ?  Because  the  something — whatever  it  is 
I  have  no  notion ;  I  am  absolutely  at  a  loss  to  con- 
ceive what  it  may  be — the  something  which  in  your 
judgment,  in  your  feeling,  rose  up  and  divided  us, 
the  mystery  that  holds  us  apart,  this  is  in  the  keep- 
ing— the  sole  keeping — of  an  unhappy  man  who 
lies  there — just  there—  in  the  leper-house,  in  a  living 
grave !  It  is  buried  with  him.  I  dare  you  to  dig 
it  up !  It  has  never  existed.  I  am  coming  to  claim 
you!" 


CHAPTER  XX 

IT  was  close  on  Christmas-time.  Picnics  and 
family  parties  were  the  custom  of  the  season.  Syd- 
ney was  full  of  Bush  people ;  stations  were  full  of 
Sydney  people.  The  population  of  the  colony  was 
presumably  no  greater  than  usual,  but  every  place 
in  the  colony  seemed  much  more  full  of  it. 

Caradon  Bolitho  wrote  to  Hazell  in  pure  friendli- 
ness, inviting  him,  if  he  had  nothing  better  in  view, 
to  join  the  large  party  at  Wamagatta. 

"  My  mother  always  says  it  takes  a  multitude  to 
do  such  evil  as  the  eating  of  plum -pudding  in  such 
weather.  You  couldn't  possibly  eat  yours  alone. 
Come  and  make  one  of  our  big  circle  round  our  big 
dish." 

Hazell,  however,  did  not  go.  He  had  but  one 
purpose  at  Wamagatta,  which  must  be  effected 
within  the  hour  of  his  getting  there,  and  it  was  be- 
yond his  limit  of  civility  to  disturb  harmony,  and 
perhaps  leave  again  incontinently  within  the  hour, 
at  the  festive  time.  He  asked  Dr.  Beeby,  with 
whom,  in  sheer  hunger  for  humanity,  he  had  ar- 
ranged a  queer  friendship,  if  he  could  neglect  his 
practice  and  spend  a  day  or  two  at  Burrabindar. 

"  My  practice  ?  Certainly,  if  you  like.  I  am  no 
slave  to  my  practice." 

"  Illness  postponed  till  after  the  New  Year  mostly, 
I  dare  say  ?  " 

283 


284:  HEAKTS  IMPOBTUNATE 

"  Couldn't  say  that,  though  there's  something  in 
it.  Oh  no !  There's  another  fellow  in  my  part,  a 
rival — serious  rival — no  medical  qualification  what- 
ever. I  assure  you,  they  really  prefer  him  to  me. 
He  drenches  them  without  fear,  you  see." 

"  Ever  kill  them  ?  " 

"  "Why,  yes ;  but  so  do  I.  We  run  each  other 
very  close.  I  have  so  bad  a  reputation  for  myste- 
rious experiences  and  private  vices  that  I  have  al- 
most the  charm  of  a  medicine  man ;  but,  then,  he  is 
so  liberal  with  his  flavourings,  and  has  such  a  grand 
scale  of  quantity  in  his  prescriptions." 

So  Dr.  Beeby  spent  Christmas  Day  in  Hazell's 
hammock,  beatific  with  morphia,  unconscious  of 
heat,  flies,  thirst,  of  the  throbbing  shriek  of  the 
cicada,  of  the  irritating  darkness  of  the  room. 

The  squatter  looked  at  him  ruefully  as  he  dined 
alone,  wondering  whether  he  had  gained  much  of  a 
social  kind  from  the  lank  presence  in  tusser-silk 
which  lay  so  unresponsive.  He  forced  himself  to 
think  of  his  pastoral  prospects.  The  season  was 
magnificent :  there  were  water  and  grass  in  abun- 
dance ;  the  stock  were  in  fine  condition ;  Soy  Ching 
was  in  great  content. 

Hazell  ate  his  turkey  with  tolerable  satisfaction ; 
then  came  the  pudding,  flaming  in  brandy,  to  the 
alarm  of  the  insect  contingent.  Mrs.  Brock  brought 
it  in  herself  with  a  smile. 

"  And  there's  the  ring  and  everything  proper  in 
it,"  she  said,  with  pure  self-approbation. 

"  Beeby,  you  bilious  object,  wake  up  and  take 
your  chance  of  matrimony  !  "  Hazell  shouted. 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  285 

The  doctor  raised  his  emaciated  head  to  shake  it, 
and  perceived  the  position. 

"  The  luck  of  the  tribe  and  the  tent  to  yourself," 
he  answered ;  "  my  kingdom  is  of  dreams." 

Hazell  swore  aloud,  cut  the  pudding,  and  found 
in  his  slice  the  bachelor's  button.  The  discovery 
affected  him  sorely.  He  flung  the  offending  morsel 
over  the  recumbent  doctor  into  the  garden,  and  on 
an  extraordinary  impulse  went  to  the  bureau  to 
write  these  hasty  words : 

"  DEAR  MRS.  BOLITHO, 

"  An  anxious  man  addresses  himself  to  your 
uncommon  penetration,  and  ventures  to  ask  you  a 
question  very  important  to  him.  When  can  he  best 
come  to  your  house  to  see  Miss  Fletcher  alone  ?  A 
candid  reply  to  this  will  tell  me  much. 

"  Yery  truly  yours, 

"  RALPH  HAZELL." 

It  was  the  most  hasty  note  he  had  ever  written 
in  his  life.  Mrs.  Brock  appeared  with  the  cheese, 
and  was  astounded  by  his  request  that  a  special  mes- 
senger be  despatched  at  once  to  Wamagatta. 

"  But,  dear  me,  it  couldn't  be  done  on  Christmas 
night,  not  ever  so  !  "  she  answered.  "  They're  all 
keeping  Christmas,  and  only  myself  and  Passiflora 
in  the  house,  and  she's  going  out  directly  your  table 
is  cleared  to  a  tea  and  bit  of  a  dance  down  the 
Creek.  Unless  it's  Soy  Ching,  who's  nothing  to 
boast  of  on  a  horse,  smoking  his  pipe  at  the  kitchen- 
door,  there  isn't  a  creature  handy.  It  couldn't  wait 
for  the  post  till  after  to-morrow,  I  suppose  ?  " 


286  HEAKTS  IMPOBTUNATE 

Hazell  laughed  with  vexation,  and  waved  the 
matter  aside. 

"  And  the  doctor,"  said  Mrs.  Brock ;  "  won't  he 
eat  pudding,  neither  ?  " 

"  No ;  he's  worse  than  Soy  Ching,  he  won't  even 
smoke  a  pipe  for  the  occasion.  He'll  want  about 
a  quart  of  hot  milk  presently.  But  he's  waking 
up." 

"  And  did  you  get  anything,  Mr.  Hazell  ? "  in- 
quired the  creator  of  the  pudding  archly. 

"Nothing,"  he  replied  promptly,  and  reflected 
afterward  with  much  self-scorn  that  the  kitchen 
would  miss  the  button  and  grin  over  his  poor  lie. 

He  burnt  the  letter,  and  in  a  rage  shook  Beeby 
out  of  the  hammock,  demanding  of  him  some  sort 
of  melody  for  his  own  heaviness. 

"  I  asked  you  here  for  Christmas,  man,"  he  said, 
"  not  for  the  Commination  Service  or  the  Dies  irce  ! 
At  least,  let  us  have  some  ghost  stories." 

The  doctor  demanded  hot  milk,  and  thus  fortified, 
delivered  himself  of  his  experiences  in  witchcraft 
and  black-fellows'  magic  till  his  host  was  shy  about 
going  to  bed. 

The  New  Year  came.  When  the  gaieties  of  it 
might  be  presumed  overpast,  and  an  unrelated 
call  was  decently  possible,  Hazell  summoned  up  his 
courage,  invoked  his  gods,  and  set  out  to  storm  the 
fortress  of  Diana's  heart. 

He  reached  Wamagatta  about  five  o'clock  on  a 
burning  afternoon,  and  found  Mrs.  Bengough  only 
at  home.  It  was  a  rebuff,  but  he  disregarded  it, 
and  asked  to  see  her.  She  received  him  in  a  sit- 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  28T 

ting-room  at  an  end  of  the  house  which  looked 
southeast,  and  so  lay  in  shadow.  The  room  was 
new  to  him,  but  its  proper  tenancy  flashed  into  his 
mind,  and  tingling  nerves  and  leaping  pulse  ac- 
knowledged the  intimate  atmosphere  of  Avis.  He 
glanced  round.  Her  violin,  her  spinning-wheel, 
her  heaped-up  writing-table,  her  assortment  of 
riding-whips,  her  mother !  He  bowed  with  a  full 
heart,  and  his  habitual  briskness  of  speech  was  ex- 
aggerated to  abruptness  in  the  words : 

"  So  very  good  of  you  to  see  me.  I  feel  one  has 
no  right  to  make  any  social  appearance  when  a  hot 
wind  is  upon  us  ;  but  I  started  early,  before  the  un- 
speakable thing  got  up  and  smote  us." 

"  The  goodness,  surely,  is  on  the  part  of  those 
who  brave  it,"  was  the  answer,  in  soft  penetrating 
tones,  and  the  lady  rose  in  stately  cordiality  to 
greet  him. 

Soft  silk,  cream-coloured,  fell  about  her  in  pleas- 
ant folds,  a  silver  belt  confined  it  easily  at  the 
waist,  the  neck  was  worked  in  silver  thread,  the 
complexion  unalterably  fresh,  the  iron-grey  masses 
piled  above  the  luminous  brown  eyes,  made  Juno, 
stepping  downwards  on  the  hill  of  life,  fair  to  see. 
The  warmth  of  her  hand-clasp  touched  him  yet 
further.  Here  was  no  stranger,  here  was  sympathy 
and  understanding — his  mother  as  well  as  hers — 
the  eternal  mother,  whom  one  meets  sometimes  in- 
corporate, to  one's  comfort. 

"  The  drawing-room  gets  the  western  sun,  and  I 
fled  from  it,"  she  said.  "  The  others,  braver  than 
I,  have  gone  out  to  amuse  themselves  by  taking 


2S8  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

honey  from  the  tree.  They  said  the  hill  would 
protect  them  from  the  worst  of  the  blast.  For  my 
part,  the  buzzing  of  bereaved  bees  would  add  the 
last  straw  to  this  horror  of  heat.  I  have  an  Eng- 
lish prejudice  that  a  wind  should  be  cool  and  a  tree 
shady." 

"A  prejudice,"  rejoined  Hazell,  "which  is,  I 
think,  one  of  our  very  happiest,  as  Englishmen.  I 
rank  it  in  value  with  that  of  the  blessed  inexperi- 
ence of  youth  that  all  women  are  angels.  I  may 
say  this  without  offence  ?  " 

She  smiled.  "  We  have  both  learnt  worse,"  she 
answered.  "  I  hope  you  drove  under  cover  ?  " 

"  I  did  nothing  so  sensible.  I  rode  a  tiresome 
beast — a  new  purchase — who  raised  my  temperature 
most  unnecessarily  by  treating  me  to  his  particular 
vice." 

"  A  powerful  horse  to  have  any  vice  left  in  him 
to-day.  It  was  a  hundred  and  six  degrees  in  the 
verandah  at  lunch-time.  What  is  this  vice  ?  " 

"  One  quite  new  to  me.  The  perverse  creature, 
without  any  warning,  lays  his  head  back,  so  that 
no  bit  has  any  effect ;  and,  in  fact,  there's  nothing 
left  to  pull  at  or  take  effect  upon ;  and  so  he  bolts, 
blindly.  Luckily  it  was  on  the  road,  and  the  road 
was  clear,  and  after  a  couple  of  miles  he  quieted 
down.  I  must  ride  him  with  a  martingale.  They 
told  me  so  when  I  bought  him,  but  I  thought  my — 
I  call  it — fourteen  stone,  Mrs.  Bengough,  would 
damp  his  ardour  sufficiently." 

"  You  should  not  risk  your  life." 

"  Oh,  there's  no  one  to  whom  it  matters  very 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  289 

much,"  he  answered  cheerfully,  above  the  incurable 
longing. 

Children's  voices  came  in  at  the  open  window. 

"  Our  successors  are  playing  under  the  grape- 
vines, getting  an  appetite  for  their  tea,"  said  Mrs. 
Bengough,  smiling  happily  in  recognition  of  her 
son's  unmodulated  yell.  "They  are  bound  in 
honour  not  to  go  beyond  the  shelter  of  the  trellis ; 
indeed,  there's  plenty  of  room  for  more  than  three 
such  atoms  of  humanity — glorious,  long,  thick 
vines!" 

"  I  hope  they  are  allowed  to  eat  the  grapes  ?  " 

"  In  limits ;  there  are  stones.  My  daughter  eats 
enough  for  all  of  them.  I  should  be  ashamed  to 
guess  how  many  pounds  she  disposes  of  in  a  week." 

"  Oh !  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Mrs.  Bengough,  it 
was  your  daughter  I  came  to  see  to-day.  I  want 
her  to  eat  my  grapes ;  I  want  her  to  dispose  of  me. 
I  have  spoken  to  her  already — not  altogether  un- 
successfully, I  tell  myself ;  but  something  came  be- 
tween us.  I  am  a  stranger  to  you ;  you  may  not 
even  have  heard  my  name.  Your  favour  would  be 
of  the  greatest  service  to  me,  but  I  am  afraid  I  can- 
not hope  to  have  it  on  so  short  notice." 

A  flush  flickered  on  the  face  of  each  as  their  eyes 
met.  His  words  were  impetuous,  and  the  strong 
magnetism  of  the  strong  man  mantled  round  her  as 
he  leaned  toward  her,  his  hands  opening  in  in- 
voluntary request.  A  sense  of  sympathy  fell  in- 
stantly upon  him  as  she  answered  graciously,  with 
kindling  look : 

"  I  knew  it,   Mr.   Hazell,  and — you  are  not  so 


290  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

much  a  stranger  to  me  as  you  think.  I  have  heard 
your  name  in  England.  My  husband's  brother  is  a 
soldier.  May  I  say  that  what  I  heard  commanded 
my  respect  ?  Men  make  the  world  so  hard  for 
women!  Perhaps  you  realise  this.  More  likely, 
though,  you  acted  nobly  from  a  noble  nature,  un- 
consciously. Perhaps  I  should  ask  your  pardon  for 
mention  of  what  must  be  painful  to  you,  but  you 
have  come  so  near  to  me  when  you  approach  my 
daughter " 

"I  understand,  I  understand,"  he  said  hastily, 
turning  away  his  head.  "  And  that  is  over.  Until 
I  met  your  daughter,  I  thought  it  never  could  be 
over." 

"  I  trust  it  may  be  quite  forgotten.  Most  of  us, 
Mr.  Hazell,  have  something  to  forget."  She  paused 
a  moment,  then  continued  firmly :  "  Life  has  been 
very  bitter  for  my  Avis,  but  I  believe — indeed,  I  do 
believe — that  she  is  all  the  worthier  for  its  bitter- 


He  interrupted  the  earnest,  touching  speech 
angrily : 

"Oh!  I  couldn't  teU  you  how  worthy  I  think 
her !  It's  not  only  her  beauty,  though  I  am  but 
mortal,  and  that  is  much.  Do  you  suppose — have 
you  any  reason  to  suppose — she  cares  for  me  at 
all?" 

"  Ought  I  to  answer  you,  I  wonder  ?  " 

His  expression  was  almost  fierce  in  its  demand. 

"  She  did  not  tell  me  ;  but,  speaking  only  for  my- 
self, I  do  suppose  she  cares." 

"  Ha ! "  he  exclaimed,  with  a  deep  breath,  and 


HEAETS  IMPORTUNATE  291 

leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  looked  about  the  room. 
His  face  relaxed  into  a  blissful  smile. 

Avis  Fletcher's  mother  observed  him  closely. 

"Mr.  Hazell,"  she  began,  gently  urgent,  "we 
cannot  make  the  past  of  those  we  love,  but  I  think 
we  love  them  as  they  are." 

He  interrupted  her  again.  He  spoke  from  his 
own  point  of  view. 

"  There  is  no  past ! "  he  said  obstinately.  "  There 
is  only  a  future  in  which  I  want  her  for  my  own. 
If  she  will  not  share  it,  then" — he  clenched  his 
teeth — "  there  is  no  future — nothing !  "  He  paused, 
adding :  "  Nothing  but  a  dead  grind  from  day  to 
day ;  the  sort  of  thing  I  have  lived  through  lately." 

She  said,  as  if  to  herself :  "A  fiery  pair !  " 

"  I  have  been  a  soldier,  madam.     I  can  stand  fire." 

Quick  feet  came  along  the  passage,  and  Avis,  in 
a  white  dress  and  shady  hat  of  white,  showed  her- 
self in  the  doorway. 

"  Well,  mamma  dear,  we  got  pounds  of  honey, 
and  only  one  man  was  stung,"  she  began.  "  You 
don't  deserve  it,  but  I  ran  you  off  some  in  my  pan- 
nikin, and  you  can  go  and  eat  it  instantly,  in  the 
drawing-room,  and  make  yourself  thirsty  with  gum- 
sugar."  Then,  perceiving  Hazell,  who  stood  to 
meet  her,  the  playful  words  ceased,  and  her  colour 
changed.  He  bowed,  and  suggested,  with  a  laugh, 
awkwardly : 

"Shall  we  shake  hands?" 

"With  my  mother's  guest,  in  my  own  sitting- 
room,"  she  answered  stiffly,  and  gave  him  a  stiff 
hand.  "  Come  and  eat  your  honey,  mamma." 


292  HEARTS  IMPO11TUNATE 

Hazell  plunged  into  the  midst  of  things. 

"  Stay  a  minute,  Miss  Fletcher.  I  have  come  to 
see  yourself.  I  cannot  go  away  without  a  private 
word  with  you." 

"  I  have  no  private  words  for  any  one,"  she  an- 
swered chillingly  ;  and  her  mother  recognised  her 
father's  passion  in  the  instant  dilatation  of  her 
nostrils  and  her  hardening  line  of  mouth. 

"  Hear  mine,  then,  please,"  he  persisted. 

She  turned  from  him,  proud  and  obstinate. 

"  Mother,  this  gentleman  and  I  have  had  private 
words  already  more  than  once,  and  I  have  finished 
with  him.  This  is  persecution." 

"  Oh,  Avis,  hardly  that,  I  think !  I  will  leave 
you  both  a  moment." 

Gentleness  never  failed  with  Avis,  and  she  yielded 
to  her  mother's  gentle  tone  and  glance  and  let  her 
go  alone,  but  took  her  own  place  standing  by  the 
window,  and  waited  facing  him,  hostile  and  im- 
patient, for  what  he  had  to  say.  He  looked  at  her, 
desperate,  and  his  heart  burst  into  rough  speech : 

"  Avis,  I  can't  live  without  you ! " 

"  You  have  managed  it  so  far." 

"  It  isn't  life.  It  never  can  be  life  again  for  me 
unless  you  share  it." 

"  Good  heavens,  Mr.  Hazell !  How  many  more 
times  must  I  refuse  you  ?  " 

"  You  did  care  !  I  swear  you  did !  I  could  not 
be  mistaken !  I  think  of  it  continually — your  arms, 
your  kiss.  No  woman  could  so  stultify  herself  in 
an  instant ! " 

"Yarium  et  mutabile  semper!"  answered  Avis 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  293 

mockingly.  Then  rage  at  the  forced  recollection 
rose  within  her.  "I  am  bound  to  answer  you 
nothing !  As  I  told  you  then,  I  tell  you  now : 
Go!" 

He  would  not  stir. 

"  What  is  there  between  us  ?  Is  it  my  wretched 
past  ?  " 

"  No,  you  know  it  is  not !  Your  wretched  past 
is  creditable — glorious.  Do  we  not  honour  you  for 
it,  all  of  us?" 

Her  mockery  cut  him,  but  he  stood  firm ;  every 
mood  of  hers  bound  him  further,  every  minute 
spent  with  her,  seeing  her,  with  her  influence  upon 
him,  knitted  his  soul  closer  to  hers. 

"  What  is  it,  then  ?  "  he  cried.  "  I  say  there  is  a 
bond  between  us  at  this  moment — a  bond  of  body 
and  spirit,  that  nothing  while  we  live  can  ever 
break — that  is  what  there  is  between  us  ! " 

Avis  started  as  though  he  had  struck  her.  She 
flung  her  right  hand  toward  him  as  though  she 
flung  off  all  reserve,  and  answered  him  wildly : 

"  My  own  past  is  a  gulf  that  I  will  never  over- 
step !  " 

He  came  nearer.  "J  overstep  it,  blindly  and 
boldly  !  You  are  not  some  one  else's  wife  ?  " 

Shaking  with  the  fateful  meaning  of  the  words, 
she  gave  him  up  her  secret :  "  JSTo,  I  am  not,  and 
the  world  said  that  was  my  shame !  " 

"  The  world — shame  !  It's  you  I  want,  love — 
will  have !  "  he  cried,  and  stepped  forward  to  seize 
her. 

She  shrank  back  quicklier  yet. 


294  HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE 

"  You  don't  understand  !  Why  do  you  make  it 
so  hard  for  me  ?  The  world  was  right.  I  ought 
to  have  been  some  one  else's  wife.  I  was  a  child ; 
he  died " 

His  eyes  flamed.  He  stood  a  minute  weighing 
her  words,  then : 

"  What  do  I  care  for  that  ?  I  have  been  some 
one  else's  husband." 

He  caught  at  her  hands,  but  she  drew  them 
away,  putting  them  up  beseechingly. 

"  Ah,  but  I  care  for  you ! "  she  answered  in  a 
voice  that  thrilled  with  passion,  and  her  golden  head 
sank.  "Leave  me."  Her  voice  broke.  "Never 
come  here,  or  I  must  go  elsewhere.  Look  the 
other  way  when  we  meet.  It  was  impossible  un- 
less I  told  you,  and  now  I  have  told  you,  I  will 
never  willingly  see  you  again." 

She  steadied  herself  an  instant  by  the  window- 
frame,  as  though  she  must  cling  to  something,  then 
escaped  his  reach,  passing  into  the  inner  room.  He 
could  not  follow.  He  stood  staring  at  the  empti- 
ness, across  which  the  potent  voiceless  chords,  tense 
and  painful,  held  him  fast  to  her. 

"  Avis ! "  he  cried,  "  Avis,  hear  me  !  Don't  leave 
me!" 

She  made  no  answer. 

"  The  man  is  dead,  you  say,"  he  cried.  "  That 
saves  me  from  killing  him." 

Still  silence. 

"  Well,  then,  I  write  it  here  at  your  table,  Avis, 
with  your  own  pen.  I  love  you;  to  me  you  are 
pure  gold  within  and  without.  You  love  me;  I 


HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE  295 

will  worship  you.  There  is  no  past  for  either  of 
us.  Come  to  me — only  come  soon.  I  cannot  tell 
you  what  the  waiting  is." 

She  gave  no  sign  of  hearing.     He  left  the  writ- 
ing, and  went  quickly  out  of  the  house. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

A  HUMAN  being  of  high  vitality,  without  absorb- 
ing pursuit,  whether  of  bread  or  fame,  without  strong 
personal  demand  on  affection  or  service,  standing 
alone,  stemming  in  proper  person  the  purposeful 
flow  of  Nature,  must  ask  at  bitter  intervals,  "Why 
was  I  born  ?  I  fulfil  no  end.  "Without  offspring  of 
brain  or  body,  why  should  I  live  ?  As  well  to  die 
at  once." 

Avis  Fletcher  recognised  herself  as  indispensable 
to  no  one,  nor  was  there  anything  she  did  which 
another  could  not  do  as  well.  She  felt  no  call  to 
ride  barebacked  for  the  delight  of  large  audiences, 
nor  to  spin  clothing  for  the  simple  savage.  Mrs. 
Bolitho  loved  her,  but  she  had  sons  and  sons'  wives 
for  her  declining  years.  Her  mother  loved  her — oh 
yes,  in  her  most  unreasoning  moments  she  had  no 
doubt  of  her  place  with  that  wise  and  tender  woman 
— but  her  mother's  life  was  rounded  and  complete 
with  a  husband  whose  look  would  follow  her  as  she 
moved  about  a  room,  a  baby  boy  who  reproduced  in 
his  own  blooming  hazel  and  brown  the  eyes  and 
curls  of  his  approving  father.  Avis,  her  first-born, 
represented  to  her  only  the  heavy  trials  of  a  past 
best  forgotten — more,  was  only  a  trial  still.  Hazel  1 
loved  her,  but  Hazell  must  learn  through  sorrow  to 
forget  her.  Nothing  but  distress  came  to  him  also 
through  her.  Avis  told  herself  that  it  was  her  fate 
to  bring  sorrow  continually  to  her  nearest  and  dear- 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  297 

est.  She  wished  them  gone,  that  in  absence  it  might 
touch  them  more  lightly ;  but  when  they  had  gone 
and  left  her,  what  should  she  do  ? 

Life  stretched  before  her,  rayless — a  long  reach 
of  futile  activities,  of  fruitless  regret.  She  had  not 
known  till  now  that  hope  of  final  right  adjustment 
had  been  at  the  bottom  of  her  heart,  that  in  her 
blackest  moments  the  possibility  of  rectification  had 
given  a  saving  glimmer.  Now  that  she  had  sent 
her  lover  from  her  for  ever,  she  felt  herself  entered 
for  the  first  time  into  steady  despair.  Years  would 
blunt  the  edge  of  it,  of  course,  and  she  would  ride 
gradually  more  slowly  under  the  gum-trees,  with 
calming  pulse  and  shortening  mental  outlook,  and 
one  day  her  place  would  know  her  no  more.  But  it 
seemed  a  long  route  to  an  inevitable  port. 

Avis  seriously  debated  the  advantages  of  a  by- 
path. Would  it  not  be  really  a  relief  to  all  con- 
cerned to  know  her  permanently  gone  where  the 
wicked  would  cease  from  troubling,  where  she  also 
would  cease  from  troubling  those  she  loved  ?  There 
was,  on  the  other  hand,  their  agony  of  shock,  their 
grief — which  in  such  circumstances  is,  perhaps,  the 
greatest — that  her  own  agony  should  have  been 
found  unbearable.  Yet  why  should  she  live  on  till 
her  gold  grew  grey  and  her  firm  tissues  shrank  ? 
The  end  was  inadequate.  She  balanced  the  points 
at  issue  coolly.  Sad,  beautiful  words  haunted  her : 


'  Oh,  but  thou  dost  not  know 

What  'tis  to  die  I ' 
'  Yes,  I  do  know,  my  lord : 

Tis  less  than  to  be  born :  a  lasting  sleep, 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

A  quiet  resting  from  all  jealousy, 

A  thing  we  all  pursue.    I  know,  besides, 

It  is  but  giving  over  of  a  game 

That  must  be  lost  1 ' " 


The  fancy  pleased  her.  The  simple  melody  rang 
in  her  ears.  The  argument  almost  persuaded  her. 
Giving  over  of  a  game  that  must  be  lost.  "Why 
not  ?  There  would  be  no  disgrace  in  it.  "We  praise 
those  who  play  a  losing  game,  but  they  do  so  with 
a  hope,  though  it  be  only  by  the  last  stroke,  of 
some  glorious  retrieval.  She  had  nothing  to  re- 
trieve. 

Her  mood,  which  she  thought  her  own  secret, 
was  better  understood  than  she  guessed,  though  it 
so  dulled  her  perception  that  she  found  nothing 
strange  in  the  fact  that  she  was  seldom  alone.  Mr. 
Bengough  rode  with  her  continually,  and  his  silence 
was  amazingly  friendly.  "When  he  spoke  it  was 
usually  with  some  suggestion  of  interest  calculated 
to  set  the  mind  roaming  to  far  countries  or  absorb- 
ing policies,  and  though  he  seemed  to  give  little  atten- 
tion to  his  companion,  he  was  ever  ready  with  the 
cheerful,  unasked  offices  of  a  man  whose  polite 
training  has  been  that  of  a  woman  he  delights  to 
please.  In  the  sultry  evenings  he  would  drag  her 
forth  with  him,  each  with  a  gun,  to  find  the  dread- 
ful, elusive  morepork,  whose  low,  ceaseless  cry 
rasped  listening  nerves  to  rawness.  The  owl,  of 
course,  was  never  found,  but  Avis  slept  the  better 
for  the  search. 

Her  mother  and  Mrs.  Bolitho  demanded  her  wits 
in  planning  out  a  tour  among  the  South  Sea  Islands, 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  299 

and  they  read  aloud  from  books  about  them,  de- 
bating their  attractions  with  those  of  Japan,  show- 
ing extraordinary  liveliness  in  the  discussion.  Mrs. 
Bolitho,  who  could  share  in  no  prolonged  excur- 
sion, would  declare  her  jealousy  of  the  project; 
Mrs.  Bengough,  without  a  sign  of  shrinking,  would 
assure  her  of  the  consoling  care  of  Thomas  Edward 
in  their  absence.  The  place  was  full  of  guide-books. 
Eddy  wrote  for  an  analysis  of  cocoanut-milk  and 
bananas,  which,  he  stated,  provided  all  that  was 
necessary  for  the  support  of  life  in  tropical  heat. 

Avis  did  not  know  how  good  they  were  to  her. 
Her  stepfather  was  greatly  bored  by  aimless  so- 
journ in  the  Bush  in  the  month  of  January,  but  he 
made  no  moan;  he  understood — perhaps  chiefly 
from  his  wife's  contemplated  parting  from  Thomas 
Edward — that  much  was  at  stake,  and  he  had  not 
so  completely  as  most  men  of  his  age  forgotten  his 
own  youth  and  the  throes  of  it.  But  he  found  the 
days  monotonous.  If  he  was  to  be  roasted  alive,  he 
would  rather  see  something  new  for  his  pains.  The 
South  Sea  Islands,  though  hotter,  would  be  pref- 
erable, and  there  was  nothing  like  travel — had  he 
not  proved  it  ? — for  a  mind  diseased. 

They  decided  finally,  one  day  at  lunch,  to  leave 
Sydney  for  Fiji  a  week  later.  Avis,  still  debating 
the  pros  and  cons  of  her  own  violent  death,  agreed 
to  the  trip.  Elucidating  circumstances  might  arise 
in  it — fever,  a  fall  overboard;  anyhow,  for  the 
moment  it  was  pleasing  them. 

Mrs.  Bolitho,  in  her  genial  way,  sent  for  a  bottle 
of  special  wine  to  drink  luck  to  the  voyage ;  her 


300  HEAETS  IMPOKTUNATE 

husband  framed  the  toast,  and  added  well-known 
details  of  well-known  heroism  with  the  glass. 

"  One — just  one,  and  no  more,  at  luncheon,  sir. 
That's  what  it  is  to  be  an  old  fellow.  I  remember 
the  days  when  I  could  take  a  bottle  of  port  this 
time  of  day  and  go  about  my  business  none  the 
worse  for  it." 

"  I  never  shared  your  powers,  Mr.  Bolitho — always 
had  a  miserable  weak  head.  Tea  suits  me  best," 
said  Eddy  Bengough. 

"  Head,  sir  ?  Like  a  rock  !  Steady  as  my  hand ! 
Once  only,  in  my  recollection,  did  I  take — I  won't 
say,  you  will  observe,  too  much,  because  I  confess 
I  generally  took  what  you  young  fellows  nowadays 
would  call  too  much — but  more  than  I  could  carry. 
It  was  a  December  day,  most  bitin'  cold.  "We  were 
huntin'  the  Devon  and  Cornwall.  I  had  made  an 
early  start,  almost  before  it  was  light,  and  had  rid- 
den nine  or  ten  miles  to  the  meet  at  Black  Wilmin'- 
ton ;  and  ridin'  and  knockin'  about  and  kickin'  our 
heels  all  the  morning,  by  one  o'clock  we  found  our- 
selves  " 

"Why,  here's  Caradon!  It's  not  his  day !  Can 
he  want  lunch  ? "  interrupted  Mrs.  Bolitho,  as  her 
son  appeared  on  the  verandah.  She  had  heard  the 
tale  a  thousand  times  before.  Avis  and  the  Ben- 
goughs  also  must  know  every  point  of  it.  "  Come  in, 
my  dear,"  she  continued.  "What  will  you  have?" 

The  young  man,  in  coat  and  breeches  of  white 
linen,  entered  through  the  window  and  bowed  to 
the  company,  wiping  his  brown  face. 

"  I'm  too  hot  for  contact,"  he  said.     "  Tea,  please, 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  301 

mother — biggest  cup  you've  got.  I  don't  mind 
about  eating  anything.  I  see  you  take  tea,  Mr. 
Bengough." 

"Old  Bushman,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Yes.  Thanks,  mother.  I  say,  do  you  people 
here  know  anything  about  Hazell— Hazell  of  Burra- 
bindar?" 

The  name,  so  near  their  thoughts  continually, 
startled  them  all  but  the  old  host.  Involuntarily, 
fearfully,  Mr.  Bengough  glanced  at  Avis,  whose 
hand  clenched  itself  round  the  fork  she  held. 

"Well,"  resumed  Caradon,  getting  no  reply,  "I 
take  it  you  don't  know.  It  seems  he's  lost." 

"  Lost !  How  can  he  be  lost  ?  Do  you  mean 
Bushed  ?  "  demanded  Mrs.  Bolitho  hurriedly. 

"  Bushed  !  Come  to  grief  somehow — disappeared. 
Went  out  as  usual  yesterday  morning,  riding  that 
brute  Marzipan  (brute  that  smashed  up  Farren,  you 
know)  without  a  martingale.  Didn't  come  home  to 
dinner — nobody's  business,  of  course.  Didn't  come 
home  all  night — no  fuss  made  by  any  one :  had  been 
known  to  stay  somewhere  all  night  before  this,  and 
turn  up  in  the  morning  to  give  an  account  of  him- 
self. This  morning,  about  nine  o'clock,  one  of  the 
riders  discovered  Marzipan,  saddled,  reins  broken, 
taking  his  ease  in  the  Jericho  paddock,  about  a  mile 
and  a  half  from  the  house.  No  sign  of  Hazell. 
Horse  quite  cool.  Nothing  to  show  how  long  he 
had  been  there,  nothing  to  show  anything.  Search 
began.  Four  men  out.  One  of  them  sighted  me  in 
our  run — Currajing  Paddock — and  came  up  to  ask 
if  I  knew  anything.  I  came  on  here." 


302  HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE 

"  God  bless  my  soul !  Why,  anything  may  have 
happened !  "  said  Mr.  Bolitho,  keenly  interested. 

His  wife  glanced  at  Avis,  who  looked  bleached 
and  stony.  The  tone  of  her  hair  was  discordant 
with  her  face ;  her  eyes  were  toward  her  plate. 

"  Sunstroke  ?  "  queried  Eddy. 

"Not  likely,"  answered  Caradon.  "Oh  no! 
That  brute  Marzipan " 

"Mr.  Hazell  is  a  fair  horseman,  surely?"  said  the 
soft,  penetrating  voice  of  Mrs.  Bengough. 

"  Good  enough,"  replied  the  young  man,  "  but 
not  good  enough  for  Marzipan  without  a  martin- 
gale. He's  the  most  eccentric  brute — got  a  trick  of 
laying  his  head  back  on  his  shoulders,  and  bolting 
for  all  he's  worth.  Farren  had  him  before — feather- 
weight, Farren ;  smashed  up.  Heavy-weight,  Ha- 
zell ;  thought  his  weight  might  handicap  him  a  bit." 

"There  are  worse  tricks  than  bolting  with  a 
heavy-weight,"  said  Mrs.  Bengough. 

"  Depends  on  what  part  of  the  country  you  are 
in,"  replied  Caradon,  regardless  of  Avis.  "  Burra- 
bindar  is  only  half  cleared,  and  when  you  can't 
steer,  and  your  horse  is  going  anything  over 
twenty-six  miles  an  hour " 

"Yes,  yes,  most  certainly!  By  Jove!  most 
likely  some  bough  crack  your  skull  for  you,  clean  as 
a  whistle!"  said  Mr.  Bolitho.  "Yesterday,  you 
say,  my  boy  ?  " 

"  Yesterday,  sir." 

Silence  fell  on  them,  while  Caradon  drank  a  third 
cup  of  tea.  His  mother  for  once  had  no  word  for 
the  occasion.  As  her  husband  said,  anything  might 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  303 

have  happened ;  the  circumstances — a  bolting  horse, 
rough  forest  land,  a  heavy  man,  long  hours  of  de- 
lay, a  fierce  sub-tropical  sun — formed  for  each  one 
of  them  a  mental  picture  uniformly  disastrous  for 
Hazell.  Into  the  mind  of  Avis's  mother  there 
flashed  a  fearful  recollection,  that  of  a  summer 
afternoon  in  the  drawing-room  of  an  English 
vicarage,  where  a  beautiful  sullen  girl  sat  unregard- 
ing,  and  a  tall,  thin  clergyman,  his  aristocratic 
features  grey  with  nervous  shock,  threw  himself 
into  an  armchair  and  asked  for  brandy.  He  had 
seen,  he  said,  a  young  man  carried  home  dead,  his 
head  hanging  horribly.  He  shuddered  as  he 
named  the  fellow.  A  restive  horse,  he  said.  The 
girl  rose  with  a  cry  which  still  rang  in  her  mother's 
ears,  and  fell  to  the  ground.  There  was  no  cry  to- 
day. The  girl  was  a  woman,  and  had  learnt 
silence.  She  rose  from  her  seat.  Her  mother  rose, 
too,  and  with  a  face  of  awful  tenderness,  hurried  to 
her.  Avis  needed  no  help  to-day ;  her  step  was 
firm.  She  passed  them  all  like  one  answering  a 
call  in  her  sleep,  her  dark  eyes  to  the  front.  Per- 
haps the  past  urged  her.  She  went  out ;  she  shut 
the  door  behind  her. 

Mr.  Bengough,  watching  them  both,  rose  too, 
and  took  his  wife's  arm  gently.  At  his  touch  her 
countenance  changed,  and,  before  them  all,  tears 
rained  down  her  cheeks. 

"  My  word !  what  have  I  done  ?  What's  wrong 
with  Avis  ?  "  Caradon  exclaimed.  "  Does  she  care 
for  Hazell  ?  I  fancied — Pheenie  fancied — she  had 
refused  him." 


304:  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

"  Oh,  hold  your  tongue,  dense  son  of  mine ! "  his 
mother  addressed  him,  almost  screaming.  "  You 
have  done  mischief  enough  for  one  day  ! " 

"  It  couldn't  be — again,  Lucia,"  said  Eddy  firmly  ; 
"  the  gods  don't  do  such  things." 

"  Oh,  Eddy,  who  shall  say  ?  "  she  answered  him 
wildly.  "  The  ways  of  death  and  the  ways  of  life 
repeat  themselves  innumerably  ! " 

Mr.  Bolitho  looked  from  one  to  the  other. 

"I  beg  of  you  all — I  don't  understand,  I  am 
afraid.  "What's  come  to  us  all  ?  Is  this  poor  man 
dead?" 

"  Spencer !  Don't  you  see  ?  For  Avis's  sake  we 
pray  not ! "  cried  his  wife. 

The  old  gentleman  considered  a  full  minute. 

"  Ay,  ay  1  Is  that  so  indeed  ?  Dear  me  !  dear 
me !  Poor  girl !  poor  girl !  Most  shockin'  news 
for  her.  Caradon,  my  dear,  it  seems  to  me  you've 
blundered  very  considerably." 

"  Well,  sir,  I  really  didn't  think  of  her  at  all," 
was  the  reply,  given  in  gloomy  protest.  "  I  be- 
lieved she  had  refused  him  months  ago." 

"  Don't  harp  on  that,  for  goodness'  sake ! "  said 
Mrs.  Bolitho.  "  Is  there  nothing  in  the  world  but 
asking  and  having  ?  " 

"I'd  leave  her  for  a  while — I  would  indeed," 
Eddy  advised  her  mother.  "She  won't  do — any- 
thing— till  she  knows  the  end,  either  way.  You 
have  nothing  to  suggest  that  she  cannot  suggest  for 
herself.  I'll  go  round  soon  and  ask  her  to  ride  out 
with  me  and  look  about  a  bit." 

Caradon,  lighting  his  pipe,  was  heard  to  mutter 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  305 

some  statement  about  women  and  the  modes  of 
them.  Mrs.  Bolitho  leaped  upon  him. 

"  "Women,  forsooth !  And  are  men  so  different  ? 
What  if  some  one  rushed  in  blurting  that  Pheenie 
had  broken  her  neck  ?  " 

He  turned  upon  her  furiously. 

"  Mother !  "  he  roared,  "  there's  no  doubt  where 
I  get  my  blundering  tongue  from !  " 

A  yell  from  the  verandah  informed  them  that 
Thomas  Edward  was  awaking  from  his  midday 
nap.  Mrs.  Bengough  stepped  out  to  take  him  up 
and  kiss  him.  Her  husband,  glad  to  escape  from 
the  heavily-charged  atmosphere  of  the  went,  came 
with  her.  Suddenly,  with  his  gaze  on  the  white 
grass-lands  beyond,  he  exclaimed : 

"  There  goes  Avis !  She  has  forestalled  me.  I'll 
bet  you  anything  she  goes  to  search  for  Hazell ! " 

Mrs.  Bolitho  limped  from  within  and  approved. 

"  A  splendid  girl !     I'd  have  done  it  myself  ! " 

Mrs.  Bengough,  watching  the  rapid  figure  going 
into  the  distance,  thought  a  dozen  issues  out,  and 
feared  at  all  of  them.  The  elder  woman  guessed 
her  fears.  She  touched  her  hand  imperatively,  say- 
ing: 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Bengough,  there's  only  one  thing  to 
do.  Drive  over  with  your  husband  to  Burrabindar, 
and  wait  for  her.  I  shall  be  here— you  there.  Our 
Avis  may  defy  the  world ! " 


CHAPTEK  XXII 

Avis  went  to  her  room  and  put  on  her  riding- 
dress.  She  provided  herself  also  with  a  flask  of 
strong  brandy  and  water,  a  trustworthy  pocket- 
knife,  matches,  and  a  couple  of  large  silk  handker- 
chiefs. She  had  to  prepare  for  unknown  needs. 
She  moved  with  extraordinary  quickness  and  pre- 
cision ;  her  senses  seemed  sharpened  to  a  fine  point 
— a  far-distant  sight,  small,  clear,  as  through  opera- 
glasses  reversed,  of  Hazell,  lying  helpless,  dead  or 
injured,  in  the  desolate  Bush.  It  was  a  sight,  an 
hallucination,  a  delusion,  perhaps,  which  absorbed 
her  whole  being.  She  could  say  no  word,  stir  no 
muscle,  think  no  thought,  that  did  not  bear  upon  it, 
lead  her  to  his  relief.  She  went  to  the  stable  where 
Hajji  awaited  her  pleasure.  He  received  a  me- 
chanical caress.  He  was  no  longer  her  darling ;  he 
was  merely  the  best  means  for  her  purpose,  and  she 
was  vaguely  conscious  of  satisfaction  that  he  and 
no  other  was  in  the  stall.  She  saddled  him,  and 
started  away  at  a  free  canter  through  the  Wama- 
gatta  paddocks,  making  for  the  spot,  eight  miles 
away,  where  they  touched  a  narrow  projecting  slip 
of  Burrabindar.  Not  that  he  would  be  found  there, 
but  that  it  would  be  so  much  to  tread  his  own 
ground — so  much  the  nearer ! 

The  afternoon  was  intensely  hot.  Her  khaki 
habit  was  heavy  upon  her ;  the  leaves  of  the  white 

306 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  307 

box-trees  were  ashen  in  the  glare.  No  cloud  flecked 
the  depth  of  burning  blue  above.  The  sheep  were 
gathered  in  any  trifle  of  shade ;  the  bloodless  herb- 
age was  of  a  waxen  white.  Only  here  and  there 
a  disgusting  iguana,  scuttling  round  a  trunk,  was 
brisk  in  the  general  torpor. 

Avis  looked  to  neither  side.  Her  face  was  pale 
in  the  shadow  of  her  hat,  with  introspective  eyes 
and  drawn  nerves  about  the  lips  and  nostrils.  She 
thought  intensely,  but  it  was  one  thought — Hazell 
lying  helpless.  She  was  driven  irresistibly ;  but  it 
was  not  consciously  love  or  anxiety  which  drove 
her,  rather  a  cord  was  fastened  closely  round  her 
heart  (she  felt  its  constriction),  which  drew  her 
ruthlessly  toward  him,  wherever  he  might  be. 
Misunderstanding,  anger,  bitterness  had  no  more 
existence ;  to  go  to  him,  that  was  all.  Who  shall 
say  that  a  magnetism  had  not  compelled  her  into 
his  presence  on  the  evening  when  they  met  first  ? 
That  a  tie  had  not  stretched  between  them  there- 
after through  all  their  disagreements,  and  that  now 
one  inner  self,  in  dire  necessity,  stripped  of  social 
accidents,  did  not  grapple  the  other  to  him  with 
hooks  of  steel  ? 

Once  on  Burrabindar,  perplexity  intruded.  The 
news  of  his  disappearance  had  given  no  clue  of  di- 
rection. He  might  be  fallen  on  any  spot  in  all  his 
sun-drenched  leagues.  There  were  creeks  which 
might  hide  him  among  coarse  grass  and  rocks ;  hill- 
tops that  might  hold  him  up  to  the  brazen  sky ; 
flats,  badly  cleared,  where  a  solitary  searcher  might 
wander  at  length  among  a  confusion  of  timber. 


308  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

She  had  no  knowledge  of  his  customary  round,  nor 
any  notion  but  the  roughest  of  the  lie  of  his  land, 
nor  any  idea  of  what  work  he  might  be  at  the  mo- 
ment particularly  overlooking.  But  her  horse  was 
tireless ;  her  eye  was  trained  by  years  of  riding 
through  gum-forest.  Every  sense  was  sharpened, 
and  there  was  the  strange  constraining  cord  which, 
as  though  his  hand  held  it,  must  guide  her  rightly. 

Impatient  of  gates,  she  took  the  boundary  fence, 
glanced  round,  gave  a  premonitory  cooee,  and 
strained  to  catch  a  reply.  By  and  by  an  answering 
cry  reached  her.  She  followed  it,  and  found  a 
rider  searching  like  herself.  There  were  three 
others  out,  he  told  her — had  been  out  since  morn- 
ing, soon  after  the  grey  was  found  and  the  alarm 
given.  All  the  paddocks  within  five  miles  of  the 
house  had  been  examined.  The  other  men  were 
now  following  the  several  creeks  to  the  confines  of 
the  run ;  there  remained  the  further  ridge  yet  un- 
explored. He  would  take  the  one  end  of  it,  if  she 
would  perhaps  take  the  other,  and  they  might  meet 
along  the  top. 

Suddenly  she  remembered  to  have  heard  Hazell 
say  he  liked  the  view  from  the  extreme  spur  of  the 
range.  She  raised  her  whip  toward  it. 

"  Yes,  I  will  go  there,"  she  said. 

"  It's  a  climb,  but  your  horse  is  fresher  than 
mine,"  he  said. 

He  told  in  the  tavern  afterward  that  she  spoke  in 
a  voice  like  a  knife,  and  sat  her  animal  in  one  piece. 

It  was  a  new  experience  for  Hajji ;  always  be- 
fore, harmonious  though  they  were,  there  had  been 


HEAKTS  IMPORTUNATE  309 

between  him  and  his  mistress  a  consciousness  of 
two  pieces,  mutually  appreciative,  giving  and  tak- 
ing, with  demand  and  response.  To-day  he  was 
the  instrument  of  an  inflexible  purpose.  He  had 
merely  to  obey.  He  accepted  the  position:  he 
bounded  like  a  wave  with  her  across  the  burning 
grass,  and  tried  the  hillside  cheerfully. 

The  sun  sank  as  they  climbed,  spreading  his  usual 
cloudless  transparency  of  crimson,  and  the  leather- 
heads  quavered  to  each  other  in  the  tree-tops.  No 
coolness  fell  upon  the  earth,  which  breathed  out  its 
own  heat,  and  lay  impervious  in  it. 

Hajji's  neat  feet  made  many  a  slip  among  the 
loose  stones ;  his  sides  heaved  without  undue  ur- 
gency, yet  he  knew  his  best  pace  was  required  of 
him.  There  was  no  yielding  in  his  rider;  still 
steady  demand.  But  Avis  felt  her  quest  was  nearly 
over ;  dead  or  alive,  her  lover,  her  beloved,  was 
close  at  hand.  Up  the  weary  limestone  slabs,  steep, 
slippery,  clinging  to  the  pommel,  swerving  from 
the  boughs,  her  glance  about  her  everywhere,  pre- 
cautionary, but  the  magic  cord  still  drawing  at  her 
heart ;  up  to  the  top,  arid,  wind-swept,  grown  only 
by  a  poor  small  gum  and  native  cherry,  with  rough 
soil,  marked  by  sheep-walks  and  their  traces,  with 
sharp  stones  piercing  through  the  thin  layer  of 
mould,  with  an  enormous  view  to  the  wide  air,  the 
horizon-bounded  pastoral ! 

Hajji  stood  quivering  with  trembling  legs.  Avis 
looked  along  the  ridge  running  northward ;  it  was 
serrate  and  irregular,  heaped  with  boulders,  a  series 
of  small  summits  of  the  unkindliest  and  most  brist- 


310  HEAKTS  IMPOKTUNATE 

ling  sort.  Way  along  them  was  taken  on  the  small 
foothold  of  their  abrupt  sides,  or  over  their  rugged 
heads ;  and  wherever  available  depth  of  earth  gave 
place  for  roots,  impeding  trees  grew  and  stretched 
stunted  arms  for  the  discomfiture  of  rider  or 
walker. 

A  horse  accident  here !  Must  she  not  find  him 
dead?  She  cooeed  loud,  repeatedly;  silence  an- 
swered. The  cord  tightened ;  its  constriction  rose 
to  her  throat,  and  every  fibre  of  her  body  became 
tense.  Her  eyes  seemed  to  strain  with  it,  and  felt 
colourless  in  her  head,  as  though  the  veins  of  her 
brain  were  empty.  She  knew  that  her  irides  were 
pale  and  her  face  white ;  a  chilly  pricking  sensation 
ran  under  her  hair.  Invisible  girders  propped  her 
up  stiflly  in  the  saddle,  and  unconsciously  she 
rounded  Hajji  to  the  line  of  the  ridge,  and,  stum- 
bling, he  picked  his  path  where  there  was  none.  A 
few  slow  yards,  and  he  stopped  short,  terrified, 
planting  his  forelegs  wide,  jarring  her  violently. 
Before  them  from  behind  a  heavy  wall  of  slab,  a 
man's  brown  riding-boots,  scarred,  motionless,  pro- 
jected, horribly  incongruous.  Life  stood  still  in 
her  a  second,  then  she  slipped  down  and  tottered 
forward,  holding  to  the  slabs,  realising  nothing, 
forced  to  meet  the  horror,  whatever  it  might  be. 
Hazell  lay  hatless,  his  eyes  closed,  grey-visaged, 
his  beard  and  temples  hideous  with  rusty  stains. 
With  a  dreadful  cry  she  sank  upon  his  breast  and 
entered  into  darkness. 

Such  things  are  out  of  time.  Presently  some  one 
enfolded  her,  and  a  tremulous,  dim  voice  said: 


HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE  311 

"  You  !  "  It  was  her  lover's  voice  ;  it  pierced  her 
darkness.  Death,  was  past  then,  and  they  were  to- 
gether in  the  beyond.  She  did  not  stir ;  there  is 
no  hurry,  one  thinks — there.  Presently  shaking 
hands  crept  about  her  face  and  neck,  weak  and  un- 
skilful. The  sunset  chill  touched  her  brow,  vivify- 
ing ;  with  a  pulse  of  agony,  life  returned  to  her 
from  its  suspense.  She  raised  her  head  to  find  it 
bare,  with  its  golden  growth  mantling  her  shoul- 
ders, and  his  fingers  in  it ;  and  out  of  the  shrunken 
grey,  his  eyes  alive  upon  her,  and  the  stained  beard 
quivering  with  a  smile.  She  flung  her  arms  up, 
circling  the  wounded  head,  and  her  cry  rang  out : 

"  Are  we  not  in  the  for  ever  and  ever,  Ralph  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  said  feebly  ;  "  oh,  yes ! "  And  again 
his  arms  enclosed  her  gently. 

As  they  waited  in  the  darkness,  his  confused  and 
aching  head  pillowed  softly,  his  cold  hand  clasped 
in  hers,  his  broken  leg  propped  at  the  least  ago- 
nising angle,  they  agreed  to  part  no  more.  While 
he  should  be  ill,  as  he  must  be,  she  must  care  for 
him ;  if  he  were  to  die — twenty-four  hours'  pain 
and  fasting  bring  the  strongest  to  some  thought  of 
death — she  could  spare  no  other  moment  of  his  dear 
society.  The  understanding  made  in  few  words, 
for  his  shaken  brain  was  unready,  they  waited  even 
happily. 

In  course  of  time  there  came  relief,  and  the  long 
torture  of  getting  him  down  the  hillside  and  so 
home.  As  the  dawn  broke,  he  was  free  of  surgical 
attendance.  He  turned  his  exhausted  face  toward 
Mrs.  Bengough,  and,  looking  at  her  imploringly, 


312  HEARTS  IMPORTUNATE 

sought  words  to  ask  for  what  was  in  his  heart.  She 
brought  her  daughter  with  a  smile,  and  took  a 
hand  of  each  and  placed  one  in  the  other.  So, 
through  deep  waters,  Ralph  and  Avis  Hazell  en- 
tered into  the  haven  where  they  would  be. 


THE   END. 


UCLA-Young  Research   Library 

PS1542   .D44h   1900 
yr 


L  009  515  455  5 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA    001217878 


